


The Elements Entwine

by LadySeaSauvage



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Duty, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Godswood, Good Sex, Jon Snow is King in the North, R plus L equals J, Reason To Live, Restoring Winterfell, Tension, The Knight of the Laughing Tree, Tourney at Harrenhal, Tower of Joy, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Winter Solstice, foxfire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySeaSauvage/pseuds/LadySeaSauvage
Summary: A new female character, Lady Sea Sauvage of House Santorini, comes to visit the Starks at Winterfell. She comes bearing gifts. She comes bearing information about Jon's mother. She has promises to keep. Jon will be thrown into emotional turmoil. He also gets turned on.  This is only Chapter One!





	1. Cold Toes

**Author's Note:**

> Since The King in the North is cavorting with everyone in these Fan Fics, why not me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all the Fan Fics, The King in the North is cavorting with everyone so I figured, why not me?  
> A young woman comes from beyond the Summer Isles to visit and bring the Stark family gifts and information about Jon's mother. Her mother was a friend of Lyanna's from the time of the Tourney at Harrenhal. Jon is extremely attracted to Lady Marisol Sea Sauvage of House Santorini. Of course, Jon falls in love. Visitors come and events unfold.

The Elements Entwine

 

Chapter One

                   moments beyond touch, the elements suffuse,

entwine and are lost in each other

 

Lady Sea Sauvage

 

Lady Sea Sauvage paced the cold stone floor of her chamber. Her feet were bare on the smooth flagstones.   By force of habit, every few seconds she tapped her practice foil on the ancient floor near the tips of her toes.  She had broken her fast too early on dark tea and a piece of Winterfell's delicious warm bread generously provided with a honeycomb. She had dressed and made ready for her duty to the King in the North. And now, she was still waiting, though the sun was well risen. Finally, there was a knock on the door and Ser Davos Seaworth requested permission to enter.

“Welcome My Lady. I am Ser Davos Seaworth, a simple sailor of the seas”, he said, “Let me get you more wood for your fire. You must not walk these floors barefoot. I am a man of the south and this northern cold can be so penetrating.”

“Please not to worry yourself. The cold can only irritate my toes. It is my heart that needs warming. I have come to present myself to your King in the North. It has been an arduous journey from beyond the Summer Isles. I am here to do my duty”, said Lady Sea Sauvage stoically.

Ser Davos had taken note of her practice weapon and immediately thought of Lady Arya.  

“If it please you, My Lady, I can send Lady Arya, His Grace’s younger sister, to visit before you meet the King. I think she and her Needle would get along fine with you and your weapon of choice.”

Lady Sea Sauvage smiled to Ser Davos and continued to pace the cold stone floor bare foot, still absentmindedly tapping her foil like an inpatient child tapping her foot.

“Please excuse me, Ser Davos, my journey has been so arduous, but so important, that I can hardly contain myself. I still can’t believe I am here. Never have I seen the snow.”

“The King will be along after he has convened the small council. I have an idea that you might be a wonderful addition with your myriad of insights from the wide world.”

“Ser Davos, you flatter me with your suggestion but, mind you I did not travel this long way, just to have just to feast with the Stark family and congratulate them on the resurrection of Winterfell.”

Finally, Lady Sea Sauvage laid her Valerian steel foil on the bed and took a chair near the hearth. She stretched her toes toward the warmth of the fire. Taking a deep breath she arched her toes toward its warmth.

“Yes Ser Davos, it is a bit too cold for me here and it’s hard for me to break my barefoot habit." she smiled.

Ser Davos looked at Lady Sea Sauvage and he could see her in his mind’s eye running along the beach on her island home with her toes curling into the sand and the warm ocean laughing at her ankles soaking the bottom of her aquamarine skirts.

 

The King in the North/Jon

 

Of course I should be thrilled to have the nobles from Westeros and all the known lands come to bend their knee.  I am grateful for their support. It is good to be at peace but, it is always better to know who you can gather to you if the need should arise. I have never been so proud to have accomplished gathering together what family I have left. Everyone that has survived the ordeals of these past years brings me considerable joy, especially now that we may all sit together and laugh again almost like when we were children, Jon reminisced. Let me get myself prepared to meet this new noblewoman from a land so shrouded in mist that we didn't ever believe in its existence. And yet here she is from House Sea Sauvage of Santorini.

Jon wasn't sure if he should appear imposing or kindhearted and generous or just show his real self, the fragile and still healing man that he was beneath the titles and armor. He called Ser Davos’ to him to inquire about their visitor.

“So tell me, Davos, who must I be to impress and win over the loyalty of this Lady?”

Ser Davos laughed, “Well, I will say that she is not a northerner, not accustomed to the cold of the north, yet she seems to be taking it all in stride. And it seems as though she has a mission more so than to just commend your victories and accomplishments.”

“Thank you, for always speaking honestly. I heed your advice as I would my Lord Father, the only father I ever knew. Well then, like my father, I must see for myself” said Jon.

“You might be wise to bring her a pair of socks.” suggested Davos with a grin.

Jon wasn't sure what that meant. Was she ragged, in need of clothes?  Surely Sansa would have something suitable if she needed anything or she would eagerly set about remedying anything for the lady if she's willing to except Sansa’s graciousness.

Lady Sea Sauvage was sitting close to the fire with a gray fur wrapped around her and holding her toes as close to the brazier as she dared, when Jon entered. She stood up abruptly but, did not apologize for her bare feet. Jon stood in the doorway transfixed. He had never seen a woman like this before. Not a woman of the North or the South or any of the free cities but, a woman like a dream of the ocean. More like Lord Manderly’s mermaid come alive, she was dressed in a turquoise gown of fine silk with many under layers of garments, each a hue of darker turquoise then the one above. She truly looked as if she had stepped out from the ocean. Her hair was very long like Sansa’s and it hung in a simple braid curving around her neck and down the right side of her body. Though the style was simple, pink, purple and turquoise shells were woven intricately into her braid with gold threads. Her hair was the color of sand, not like the sand of Dorne but a more burnished golden brown with flecks of gold like sunlight. The Lady’s eyes were the most unusual mixture of malachite and lapis lazuli, not green, not hazel more like the ocean itself.  Not that Jon had spent much time so far south on the ocean, still he was taken aback to see this woman as she was and wrapped in the gray furs of Winterfell. For a moment, he thought she was a tromp l’oeil or something other worldly.  

          _Gods this woman is extraordinary, he thought._

“My Lady, please excuse me, I did not mean to barge in. We have had so many visitors of late, everyone demanding to see me immediately, that in my impertinence, I didn't even knock on the door to announce myself.” Jon started.

She rose and walked toward him looking him up and down then smiling. Lady Sea Sauvage held out her hand for him to take.

“Your Grace, if you will have us”, she curtsied bowing her head ever so slightly and then raised her eyes, her magnificent eyes to meet his.

Jon took her hand and kissed it. Her skin was beyond soft, like the petals of winter roses. She smelled of roses, lemons and sandalwood.

“My Lady you are welcome in my home. Consider yourself always safe in the house of the Starks of Winterfell. As you may know by now, I am the mixed blood of the dire wolf and the dragon although I am still trying to understand what that will mean for my future.” Jon explained. He was startled as he revealed those deep worries to this woman, this new stranger in his life.

“Yes” she said, “that is what brought me here to you. We have long known of the dragon and the dire wolf. I so desire to encounter your animals of your north. Our world, being surrounded by the ocean, our land creatures are few beyond those that have been brought to us and domesticated over time. We are an island unto ourselves. Though I will say, we have the most enchanted birds and the beasts of any world that I have visited.”

          _Gods this woman is brave, he thought._

“Please My Lady, let us sit for a moment as I have brought you more furs to keep you warm and according to Ser Davos, he suggested that you were in need of a pair of socks. So I have brought you socks that Lady Sansa knitted from the fur of the rabbits we keep.” Lady Sea Sauvage blushed a bit and glanced down at her toes.

“Thank you, Your Grace, I tried to convince Ser Davos that I was content in my barefoot nature but, I would be glad to slip on a pair of warm for socks if you insist.” She smiled and Jon smiled back. This was almost silly he thought as they exchanged glances looking down at her toes and then into each other’s faces as if to read the sincerity there. Jon was unsure how to proceed. Should he just hand her the socks or leave them on the arm of the chair. This was a situation he had never encountered. He had never met a woman in need of something so essential as socks yet she looked at them as though they were garments beyond her wildest dreams. Jon thought for a moment of Daenerys, his aunt, in the warmth of Kings Landing wearing only tiny silk shoes, his sister Sansa with her woolen and fur socks and sturdy boots and of course, Arya in breaches, woolen socks and boots ready to step into any weather.

“Perhaps”, he gestured, “I should send for one of my sisters to help you dress to accommodate yourself to our weather and insure your comfort.”

“Oh no, I don’t require assistance.” and she plucked the socks from Jon's hands and proceeded to pull up her skirts to expose her calves modestly and slid the socks on her feet.  They both laughed again nervously. Lady Sea Sauvage reached over, took Jon's hand and gave it a squeeze in a thankful gesture.

          _Gods this woman is extraordinary, he thought._

She continued earnestly, “I thank you, King in the North. I thank you for bringing me this token of comfort.  I thank your sister as well for making them and when we meet I will thank her again personally.  I trust these are not her newly made winter socks that you like a brother plundered from her knitting basket to give to me?”

          _Gods this woman is impertinent, rather saucy, he smiled to himself._

“Lady Sansa sent them to you with her regards and requested that once you were settled and warm I bring you down to our family solar so that we may all meet.  My sisters are anxious to meet with someone from such an exotic and faraway land. We were asleep when you came in last night.”

“Yes I know, I made requests that no one to be awakened for my arrival. It is but a small thing” she stated as she took his hand again and squeezed it.  “I would never steal a person’s dreams from them just to make me feel at home.”

“Well then, let me accompany you to our solar so you may meet everyone.” Jon continued.  Her, come fall into my soul, eyes looked up at him with a certain determination in them.

          _Gods this woman is beyond beautiful, he thought._

“Please wait, I have gifts for everyone, just as you have gifted me your sister’s socks.”  Lady Sea Sauvage went into her traveling chest and pulled out a package wrapped in the most beautiful water colored silk. She then looked around the room for her shoes and upon finding them, slipped her newly stockinged feet into her silk shoes.

 


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Sea Sauvage brings great gifts to the Starks and reveals some startling information. Jon is starting to have intense feelings for her.

Chapter Two

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Jon watched as she readied herself to meet his family.  Lady Sea Sauvage had an air of grace about her much like Sansa and an athleticism and energy quite like his sister Arya. It’s funny how he knew his sisters so well but, seeing these character traits unified in one person just plain confused him. He felt off balance.  He felt he didn't know if he should approach her in a formal manner like he would Sansa or the playfulness that he would use with Arya.

Jon took in a deep breath and thought to himself. Wait, I'm King in the North and she has come to pledge fealty to me. I must treat her the honor and respect that she deserves for having traveled all this way just to see us. After all, we are the Starks of Winterfell, the true descendants of the Kings of Winter. Jon, stopped himself and rethought. Why is this bothering me so much?

Jon took a deep breath and asked “My Lady, are you ready to proceed?”

By now, her shoes were on with the cozy socks and so he extended his arm to her and said “let me take you to meet everyone.” She nodded lowering her eyes and answered “Yes, Your Grace. As it pleases, you have seen to my comforts and I am ready.”

                _Gods how I hate all these titles. I’m still Jon!_

“My Lady,” Jon said “please take the furs with you. Our hallways are cold and you will need them as we cross to the main solar.  I promise you, later we will tour Winterfell and you will be delighted to see the Hot Springs.”

At this, Jon draped a heavy fur cloak about her shoulders.  “Thank you, Your Grace.”, she responded.

She allowed him to escort her, hand tucked within the elbow he provided, through the halls of Winterfell and toward the large solar which had been converted to a common area for the family as well as a meeting room for the small counsel. 

As they walked down the halls, Jon regaled her with snippets of history as well as his own memories.  He felt very eager to share all of this with her. Lady Sea Sauvage took in everything he said looking straight into his eyes and giving comments of interest and approval along the way. He made her laugh and she squeezed his bicep charmingly during their walk. He hadn’t expected that. No, just that it would feel so natural. He could have walked with her for miles. As they crossed toward the Lord’s Keep, she gripped his arm with both hands to keep her balance in the snow. Jon tucked her closer to him and placed both of his hands on hers. He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. They continued to talk.  She loved hearing the history of this great house and finding that Jon's history was entwined made everything he told her come to life.

                  _I could walk for with her for hours and reveal my soul to her._

Finally they reached a huge arched wooden door. The door itself was imposing. Jon lifted the latch and pushed with such a familiar manner that she knew she had arrived at his family’s solar and the people on the other side made Jon happy.  Jon noticed she did not falter, nor did her eyes drop as she entered the room. Rather, she smiled brilliantly, like a summer morning, to all present and curtsied.

 

Lady Sea Sauvage/Marisol

 

"This is my sister, Princess Sansa, Wardeness of the North and the true keeper of the blood of the First Men and the Old Gods.”

                _Gods, there is something endearing about this man… I mean King._

Lady Sea Sauvage curtseyed and extended her hand to Sansa with gesture of openness.  “My Lady, it is wonderful to meet you. I have long admired your strength and commend you on your graciousness.”

Jon continued with the formalities, “This is my sister, Princess Arya, Lady of the North and the best swordswoman in our realm."

“Lady Arya, I too was taught by Serio Forel, though it seems like it was another lifetime. I would ask you to do me the pleasure of sparring with me.”  

“My Lady”, said Jon “here we are just family tied together as we are by our struggles, our wounds, and now  we are healing. Sit down and let us be finished with the formalities of court. You are among friends Please call me Jon.”

“And just call me Arya”, she exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. “So when would you like to begin our competition?” she winked at Lady Sea Sauvage, who winked back in return.

“As soon as you can find me some warm breeches and boots. I am ready and speaking of warmth, Lady Sansa, I need to thank you for the beautiful socks."  My King", she paused, glancing at Jon and continued, “I mean Jon, told me they are created by your own hand.  They are finely wrought and most importantly, keep my feet warm against this enduring cold of your north. I have never worn socks made by a Princess before! ” 

“Please let there be no more formalities among us, please call me Sansa”

“I agree, my name is Marisol, which means the union of the sea and sun. At home we don’t stand on such formalities, unless necessary.”

Sansa looked quizzically at Jon. “My socks, Jon? Will you be distributing my socks to all of our visitors? You will have me knitting day and night!"

Sansa relaxed and genuinely smiled at Marisol continuing, “I am not surprised at my brother’s boldness. He himself often comes to my room looking for a pair of clean socks. Especially the woolen and rabbit ones!!!  I see my brother, that you have given our good Lady Marisol my socks. May they keep your feet warm and toasty.” she teased.  “Winter has come!”

Jon looked a bit chagrined at the revelation.  He looked at his sister and laughed heartily, “Well Sansa, somethings never change.”

“I'm glad for it” she replied.

The subtle tension in the room broke as everyone laughed. Jon thought well at least that part is over with. Now he felt more off balance. His sisters were so comfortable with Lady Sea… um…. Marisol. They were just as taken with her as he was. She did move like a water dancer.

Sansa, as always, taking the lead said.  “Come my Lady Marisol, sit with us here in this room. We are none but family as it should be!”

Jon pulled a heavy chair into a position where Marisol could sit, making sure that she was close to the hearth.  She sat down fluidly and then surprisingly she slipped off her silk shoes to reveal the brilliantly white socks.

“Here are the socks in question. I am not accustomed to this weather although I must say I have never seen anything more beautiful than the expanses of dazzling snow carpeting your land.”

Marisol stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes for everyone to see the beautiful socks.  At this. she broke into laughter which both Sansa and Arya joined in. “Thank you all for taking me into your hearts and your knitting basket.”

 

King in the North/Jon

 

She glanced quickly at Jon and flashed a smile at him.  For the first time in a long time, Jon felt comfortable with someone he had just met and smiled back at her warmly and openly. There was no hesitation, no trying to make comparisons with Ygritte or any of the ladies that had been throwing themselves at him since he became King.

                 _What is it about this woman that is making me lose my composure?_

“You are our guest and all we have here is that your disposal.  Next time you're cold just let me know I'm sure there are plenty of newly made socks. I will search in my sister’s knitting basket at any time for you.”

Arya turned to Sansa and said “Well I hope there's a pair of thick woolen socks in there as well because we must fit her with northern boots and britches so that we can practice together. One can never practice enough as I'm sure you learned from Syrio.  I will see to appropriate garments for you and hopefully we will be off to show up some of these men. Let them see how a woman can fight!” they both laughed.

“The sooner the better!  It’s always important to keep our needles sharp!”

Jon relaxed and laughed at all of the banter among the women. The halls of Winterfell were once again filled with laughter after such a long time.

“It’s time for my gifts” Lady Marisol beamed and began to unwrap the package she had brought and placed on the table in front of her. She carefully undid the layers of silk.  Jon could not help noticing the scent of the flowers from her country filling the air with each layer that she unfolded. He was intrigued and watched her hands, long fingers with beautiful nails that seem to be polished and gleaming like sunlight reflected on water.  First, she pulled out two gold hair combs burnished so brightly they seem to be made of sunlight rather than gold. The tines of the combs had an organic plant like shape to them. They were engraved with the helix of the Chambered Nautilus. The tops of each comb looked like fan coral and were encrusted with many beautiful seashells of pink and yellow and lavender and turquoise.

“These are for you Sansa.”

“I’ve never seen such beautiful and finely wrought combs. How can I take these?”

“They’re for you, my mother and I designed them together. You must accept them and wear them when you are holding court. They are magical, you will see!” Marisol winked.

Next, she pulled a golden dagger with a particular curve, like the arc of a wave, embossed with the helix and again inlaid with seashells of the same colors. The tip of the dagger was very fine indeed and this she offered to Arya.

“This is for you. We call it a water dancer because of the unique feel of the hilt, which makes it so easy to hold. It bears the helix of the Chambered Nautilus which is the sigil of House Santorini. I know Serio Forel has taught you well how to use this Arya.”

“You have found my sweet spot, Marisol. I wish to politely say no but, I love it. I have never seen anything like it!” Arya gushed. “Like Needle, this will always be a constant companion to me!”

Next for Jon, she pulled out a leather belt studded with Valerian steel and gold and scabbard of finely wrought gold encrusted with lapis lazuli and malachite flecked with gold like the colors of her eyes.

“This is for you my King in the North. Jon, I hope the scabbard and belt will suit you well.  I can only wish that you would use this to carry Long Claw with you. Let there be no more battles. Let us have a long peace.”

Jon was amazed by this offering. It was both a heartfelt and daring gift. His hands were sure as he accepted the gift even though he was shaking inside.

_This woman is shaking me alive in a way I never thought possible._

“I promise you that I will only wear this belt and scabbard to ensure peace. You do me such great honor and place such trust in me. I cannot begin to show you how I feel.”

“How I feel”, Jon whispered as he bent to kiss her hands and took the proffered gift from Lady Marisol. His hands curved around hers and he felt a jolt like snow thunder pass between them. “How I feel”, he whispered again. He felt her hands curve into his. She was trembling. She took a noticeable deep breath. He wanted to hold her hands forever. She looked down at him and seemed to whisper, “Yes, how I feel too.” She looked up and he realized she needed her hands back to reach into her package again.

                _Am I losing myself to her so simply?_

 

Lady Sea Sauvage/Marisol

 

"I wish to show you what brings me here. The duty I must fulfill to honor my mother. I came to give you three gifts of much importance to both our families."

She pulled out an open circlet of hammered gold incised with the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine golden spikes in the shape of longswords.

"The names of all of the Stark Kings from as far back as the Kings of Winter to your Lord Father are inscribed here. This is just like the crowns of the Kings of Winter. They are your blood. This is for your father Lord Eddard." She reverently placed it on the table before them. "This is for Lady Catelyn Tully Stark."  She produced a finely wrought circlet with the names Tully and Stark intertwining around it.  Everyone at the table had their eyes riveted on her hands as she drew them from her silken package.

“This, My King, I mean Jon, this one is special for you” explained Marisol.

She carefully lifted out a white gold crown of blue roses, the winter roses that only grow in the glass gardens at Winterfell. The petals appeared textured with frost. “This Your Grace, is for your mother Lyanna. My mother was a dear friend of hers. She knew the secrets of your birth and held them captive in her soul.  After your Lord Father was murdered by the Lannisters and the wars began, she had these crowns commissioned. My Lady Mother, went over every detail of their design painstakingly. She left commands that upon her death and the end of the war with the White Walkers, that these crowns were to be struck and I was to bring them here to Winterfell to the crypts of your family. This was my mother’s final wish to place these crowns on the effigies of your Lord Father Eddard Stark, Lady Catelyn Tully Stark and your beloved mother Lady Lyanna.”

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Marisol let go and dissolved into a torrent of tears. She had been crying dainty rivulets of tears as she spoke. Jon stood up and clasped her hands in his again. He urgently wanted to kiss them and began to lean in closer to her. He realized that he wanted nothing more than to kiss each tear from her cheeks, just to see her smile again.

When Jon looked around, his sisters were crying too. Warriors don't cry, Jon thought to himself and yet he felt the tears on his cheeks. He wished to brush them away but, he was cradling Marisol’s hands closer and closer to his lips.

“My Lady you have most certainly done your duty to your mother and the Stark family. I can do nothing but acquiesce to your wishes and tomorrow we will go down into the crypts and place these crowns upon their heads.” 

Jon was absolutely stunned.  He had no idea that anyone else knew of his true parentage. What a true friend to have held the secret within her heart until the end of her life.

Marisol looked at Jon, then Sansa, Arya and back to Jon again. She kissed him on the cheek, kissing one of his tears.

“These are the reasons we live and die. These are the people we love and these are the duties we must carry out. Everything, no matter what the outcome was done for love.” She said to Jon reassuringly.

Jon kissed her hands again. They were both trembling. “I had no idea” he said, No idea all these years.”, he said, “Right now I must think.  Your revelations bring me great joy, and a difficult sadness." “Ladies all, please excuse me I'm going out with Ghost.” He slowly let go of her hands and left the solar.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter to write. It has many purposes: to meet the Stark sisters, to portray a realistic not romanticized “poor pitiful me Jon, to watch Jon’s reactions to the first woman, he is interested after Ygritte, to reveal a bit of information about Lady Sea Sauvage, her mother and the purpose for her visit. This is not an “I’m here now, let’s have sex chapter. That one is on its way! (If I have made any inconsistencies or grammar or usage mistakes, please excuse. I just want to write this story!)


	3. Confessions and Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya and Marisol have a heart to heart. The narrative is broken into 2 chapters. First, the women express themselves and next Jon expresses himself.

Chapter Three 

         if the sun, then i might,

 

Arya

 

After Jon left the solar everyone was at a loss for what to do next except, of course, Arya. She was already handling her new dagger and beginning to make plans.

“This is more wonderful than anything I have seen in my travels. And it’s so dainty!” Arya exclaimed. “I sense this is an elite weapon.”

“You're right Arya.” said Marisol, “That's why the curve is so important. It's made to slice upwards or depending on your handedness, horizontally. Either way by itself, it can deal the deathblow.”

 

Sansa

 

Sansa was sipping her tea, while Arya and Marisol discussed weapons and swordplay. There was a look of deep thought on her face.

“There's much we have to do if you want to visit the crypts.” Sansa began, “I hate going down there by myself. Too many spiders and too many memories. I don't know if I will ever be at peace after watching my father being murdered at the Sept. And the loss of my mother, brother Robb and his new wife, I never even a chance to meet her. So many losses, so quickly. I can't put it to rest. I don't know if I ever will. I had to put myself together in a different way. I'm no longer the little girl I was when we went to Kings Landing. Both Arya and I have had so many years stolen from us by so many evil men. I don't want to be about revenge but it does feel good.”

“I imagine so.” said Marisol quietly. They continued to sip their tea in silence for a few moments.

“You know Marisol,” started Sansa “I have never seen Jon so disconcerted and I don't mean by the duties or the gifts that you brought but by your very presence. Some bannermen have been pressuring him to find a wife. Arya and I love Jon with all our hearts and it is a relief to know that he is not a bastard. Not that we ever really cared or understood growing up. I know it is a relief for him, but a father he never knew that's probably just as good as being a bastard. He has always looked upon our Lord Father as his true parent. When Bran came and explained his visions to him he was astounded, horrified and silent.”

Sansa continued, “He went out ranging daily and helping the small folk along with throwing himself into rebuilding Winterfell. Jon has done everything possible to keep his thoughts from running wild. As you see Winterfell is beginning to shine again and even though we are his companions and he has Ser Davos Seaworth and Tormund Giantsbane and his friends from the Night’s Watch to surround him, he is still very much alone. He has kept himself apart until you came. I haven't seen his smile in so long. His eyes are shades less serious. Everyone has always referred to Jon's brooding nature. Really I think he's being quiet so he can listen to everyone and everything. I’d rather say he is very single-minded and always has felt that he needed to carry the world on his shoulders.”

“Then today I saw Jon's face open up to you.” Sansa confided. “I know those were the first tears he ever shed for his mother because it finally meant something to him. Your story was able to bring him a sense of her and a connection to her. You may not have thought of this but, somehow you are through your mother, the only connection he has to our Aunt Lyanna. Most who knew her are dead now. Your story has brought the connection to life. It’s a good thing for him. I must say you are much more than simply a beautiful woman resplendent with the sunlight of your island. We don't see the same kind of light here in the north. Our light is so much more diffuse. You are like a bright summer day that we haven't experienced since we were children. I saw how Jon was looking at you and the way he moved around you. So close. I haven't seen him standing that close to anyone but us. You too, my Lady, I noticed your reaction to his touch.”

“You’re right” Marisol confessed, “I went far beyond myself. When your brother looked at me, oh gods, those grey eyes, not only did I feel the completion of my mother’s wishes but, a connection I never expected. It was almost as if somehow our mothers knew that we would meet and it didn't feel wrong.”

“Oh” sighed Arya rolling her eyes, “Too much heavy talk. I need to be outside. I would love to spar with you Marisol. We need to outfit you appropriately. Let's go see what we can find”

“Wait, I have been examining the helix design engraved on my hair combs. I wish to embroider your sigil of the Chambered Nautilus.” said Sansa “As I see you wear no sigil on your dress.”

“I cannot embroider like yourself.” said Marisol “But I do have my sigil.”

Both ladies watched as she drew a golden chain from under the many layers of her clothing and there was the slice of a real Chambered Nautilus encased in rose gold.

“I will take it off and let you examine it so you may use its design. Again, you and your needle honor me Sansa”

“Oh by the gods!” exclaimed Arya, “If we are going to talk of needles, let us see whose is the pointiest Marisol! I think it's time we went and had some fun with our needles!

The rest of the afternoon was spent outfitting Marisol in leathers, boots and Stark armor for days of fencing. Of course, nothing was right enough for Arya unless Gendry forged it for her. Still, Needle, Jon’s gift to her always remained at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a hard time writing in Canon when the characters are talking about emotions, I want to switch up to modern language constructions. Please let me know if the language sounds too stilted!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> Thanks for the Kudos.  
> Don't worry sexy scenes are coming!!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Confessions and Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the Jon POV of the rest of the day. He wants to make a move. He is finding someone he can trust. That means everything to him.

Chapter Four

 

                                                           lush tropicals press the wind wanting you.

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Jon left the solar and went straight back to his room for his warmest riding cloak. He changed back into his Stark leathers, got his gloves and cloak and walked directly to the stables. All he had to say was “Ghost come.” and the huge white dire wolf followed behind him happily, understanding that they were going for a long ride. When Jon got to the stables he told the squires and groomsmen he would take care of his own horse and his own needs. He walked down the row to his favorite to destrider and carefully groomed him, checked his hoofs and saddled up. He worked silently with extreme purpose and was ready to leave in about 20 minutes. This way he could avoid anyone trying to come with him. He needed to be alone to think. After he mounted, his squires opened the Hunter’s Gate and he galloped off toward the Wolfswood, He wasn't sure where he was headed so he just rode toward the sun.

As he rode, the cold wind began to clear his thoughts. Jon shook his head as if to empty his mind of all of the preceding events of the morning. It was so much to take in. It was common place for a Lord or Lady to present themselves to him. Sansa and Arya made sure that when he held court for the bannermen, his liege lords and the smallfolk one sister sat at either side of him in the Great Keep. He felt such pride for both of them. Sansa and Arya were the living spirit of Winterfell, now especially after Lady Mormont had declared him King in the North and a true Stark. Funny thing, he knew he was no Targaryen and continued to reject that name in spite of Daenerys constant pleading with him. He thought back to Maester Aemon, the only Targaryen he had known, who had told him that a Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing. Jon wished that he could give his aunt some solace. He was Lyanna Stark’s son. He didn't care about their secret marriage or if he was still a bastard. His blood claims to the Iron Throne didn’t really matter. What mattered was his home, the only place he had ever known and the love and the bonds of family. As far as he was concerned, Lord Edward was his father. He was the man who raised him and molded him into who he was today. Jon continued to ride into the Wolfwood with these thoughts swirling around his head like a tornado.

He rode in peace just listening to the sound of his horse’s hooves breaking the crust of early-morning snow and the sound of Ghost’s breathing next to him. After a while, Ghost barked, pointed to the left and howled a short signal. “Go”, he said, “I'm sure you're tired of eating castle food!” Ghost bounded off for a quick hunt. Probably a deer among the trees. He listened closely with Ghost’s ears and heard the heartbeat, the strong breathing of a young buck at the stream where the water had broken through the ice enough for him to drink. Jon felt the urge to let go completely and warg into Ghost just to feel the boundless energy of running and of the catch but, he stayed rooted on his horse. He had to think right now like a king, like a son. He realized that as he looked over the land he couldn't help but come back to those eyes, the blue-green  with the golden flecks within them. She was a dream of a woman that he had not realized existed. Lady Marisol had a strength about her, like his sisters. Still there was something else, every time he looked at her, he felt like she was a safe harbor for him. Jon wasn’t even sure what that even meant. Someone he could go to for anything, his deepest fears, his tender broken heart. Someone who would meet him eye to eye and yet could engulf him fully. He felt she was strong enough to protect him from himself, that she could draw him to her and heal his always hidden and accumulated pain. Jon knew that he had a lot of unresolved pain and guilt where he wished to have joy and a sense of peace and satisfaction with himself. He had thrown himself into the restoration of Winterfell. Each glass garden or building he worked on, often with his own hands brought him some peace.

Jon rode harder and harder pushing himself while he waited for Ghost to come out of the woods after his meal. When his dire wolf emerged from the wood, he decided he wasn't ready to go back to Winterfell yet. So he and Ghost rode back toward Wintertown and stopped along the way to visit the small folk. This is what his Lord Father would do. He would check in on his people as the snow began to get deeper on the countryside. He noticed new clusters of homes and rode toward the largest cluster of about five or six small homes to check upon the occupants. As he and Ghost rode in the children of the households ran out to meet him. They were shouting “the King in the North, the King in the North!” One by one the families came out and he greeted them all. He reminded them that there was always room within the walls of Winterfell for all. He reminded them that there was plenty of food and wood should anyone run out and to always come to him if there was any need. Jon promised he would do the best he could. Even Ghost sat down and allowed the children to pet him. He discussed the hope that spring would be on its way after the winter had totally passed. He spoke most fervently to them and reminded them that the north remembers, the north remembers everyone. No one would be turned away from Winterfell.

It was starting to get dark as he left the small cluster of homes now. Each had a fire burning. Smoke coming from the chimneys and the promise of an evening meal. It was time to go home he thought. Jon rode swiftly back to Winterfell, Ghost running with him matching his horse, stride for stride. As he entered the Hunter’s Gate he looked among the keeps and battlements to determine which lights burned and where everyone might be. It was not so late but the day had been terribly full. The lights in the family solar were bright. He went back to the stable and being tired, gave his horse to the grooms to settle him in for the night. He reminded them that there was ale in the kitchen. Jon walked across the yard and noticed a light also burning brightly from a different window of the castle.

He first went to the family solar in the Lord's Keep to check in on Sansa and Arya. Jon never let a day go by when he didn't check on them repeatedly. Sansa was sitting by the fire embroidering a new design, something he couldn't identify.

She greeted him with a smile, “I'm glad you're home Jon, it's been a most amazing day hasn't it?”

“What are you embroidering there?”

“Since when are you so interested?” she asked.

“Oh, just wondering. I noticed the cloth was turquoise.”

“And that is all you will see”, she said “Just give me time. Arya is out with Gendry at his forge, obviously supervising his work. Marisol just left me to retire to her rooms. Shall I call for some dinner for you?”

“No, thank you.” he said, “I need to rid myself of the chill of my afternoon. I discovered there are many small folk building new homes around Winterfell. I think we need to ride out and assist them in their progress.”

“Very good idea. I agree with you. Remember, the Winter Solstice is coming.”

“Thank you most graciously, my Warden of the North.” Jon bowed to Sansa and winked at his sister. “You always know the rules of hospitality.” He walked over and gave her a kiss on the forehead and said, “good night, sweet sister.”

Jon walked back across the quiet yard and noticed the light still burning in the window. Well he thought, he had ridden all day and wasn't at his cleanest. Still he felt that he was at his most honest point in a long time and so he should speak with Marisol now rather than wait until morning. He ran up the stairs two by two, like he had done so many times in all those years past and approached the door to her chamber. Jon thought he could hear her singing to herself. Maybe this wasn't a good time but, this was the only time he had the courage to approach her. He had been working on this moment all day in his head. He knocked once on the door, "Excuse me, my Lady?” He waited 1, 2, 3 seconds.

“Yes, please come in Your Grace”

Jon fumbled with the ancient handle. He entered and bowed to her. “Please excuse me, I have just come in from riding and visiting the small folk around the castle.”

“Come in. I was just drawing. I want to show Sansa about the Chambered Nautilus, so I was trying to draw the spiral within it. It is very clever. The outside is so simple. One can see the way that it curls in on itself over and over and yet, when you find a broken shell, it is so much more complex. You see that each curve is its own chamber. So simple and yet so complex. Please sit down Your Grace.”

“You don't have to call me by any titles amongst ourselves. Just Jon.”, he reiterated.

“Then sit with me, just Jon.”

Marisol was sitting in the large chair near the fire with the grey and white furs he had brought her over her shoulders. He sat down in the chair to her side by the fire as well.

“It has been a long day and it's good to sit here and talk with you.”

She always looked him straight on with those amazing eyes and all he could do was fall into them. He let himself fall into their depths. He wanted to tell her his every thought, confess his fears. Above all, he wanted to take her in his arms, to kiss her, first softly, then with building need to part her lips with his tongue and…… Jon snapped himself back to reality. At least he was sitting here with her engaging in playful banter. He hadn’t even pictured himself getting to know any woman, much less wanting to let his guard down.

“I have some cheese and fruit and your wonderful Winterfell bread. Please eat. You must be very hungry after your day.”

She got up barefoot, walked over to the small table and brought the plate of grapes back with her.

“At least these they will be refreshing.”

By now she stood in front of him. Marisol tossed a grape at him, “Catch!” It hit him in the forehead.

“I didn't saw I had good aim.”

Jon picked the grape from his lap and threw it back tenderly. It hit her on the chin.

“And I have great aim.” he joked.

She smiled back. They both looked at each other and laughed and laughed.

“I haven't been silly in a long time.” she said. “I haven't even wanted to be silly!”

Marisol put the dish in his lap and pulled her chair over to face his. Once she sat down, she popped a grape in her mouth and indicated to Jon “Another?”

She leaned toward him and brought the grape to his mouth. He ate it from her fingertips. Her scent was palpable to him, roses and lemons.

“You smell better than any garden I’ve ever dreamed of. Even the glass gardens of blue roses.” He said softly. And before he could think, he kissed her lips lightly. She touched her lips with her beautiful fingers tracing his kiss.

“So fast, too fast perhaps. My Lady blushes like a sunrise!”

“Another grape, Jon??”

They finished the plate. Each watching the other, waiting for another kiss.

“Marisol, you have taken me by surprise.”

He stood and placed the plate in the chair. “It is late. You must be tired from all my sisters’ doings.”

Jon took her hands in his and kissed them again. He bowed to her and looked up.

“May I expect more tomorrow?”

“Certainly” she added “Much more!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of Chapter 3. Please let me know what you think!!!!!!!!!!! I know, I'm going to slowly on the SEXY.
> 
> Note: the lines at the beginning of each chapter are from a poem I wrote called Tropical Ghazal. It can be found on Wordpress.com


	5. Ravens and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors are coming to Winterfell. Lady Marisol and Jon are falling for each other. Both have such propriety and are trying to get to know each other.

Chapter Five

 

Marisol

 

The next morning, Marisol lay in her warm bed thinking about what had transpired between herself and Jon last night.  She ran things over in her mind. She really hadn’t thought about what to expect when she met the King in the North. She had heard more about his exploits that his person. People had described him as solemn and driven. They said he was a man of his word. No one had mentioned that he was so handsome. Jon was quiet, not solemn. What could be expected of someone who had endured so many painful events in his life? And he had the most penetrating, searching grey eyes. No one had mentioned that either.

She snuggled back under the furs.  Her fire was burning very low. Gods she thought, a man like this, enigmatic, armored and yet, hurt and scared beneath the façade he took upon his shoulders. A Targaryen alone in the world........., obviously could be many things. No matter, he didn't feel himself Targaryen. Marisol felt guilty because her duty to her mother brought up the issue that he had been wrestling with and trying to come to peace over. Certainly trying to come to terms with it all.  Yes, he had stated he was both the dire wolf and the dragon to her. She only knew the stories of the Targaryen's from her mother who would always whispered them to her as she became more and more ill. She herself wasn't sure what to make of it.

This was going to be a journey of discovery she realized. Who better to make it with then Jon, a man she barely knew. Other crazy thoughts filled her head. Had her mother and Lady Lyanna been in contact when they were both pregnant with their children?  Neither of them had any way of knowing boy from girl. So what had they concocted?  Marisol imagined the ravens that must've flown back and forth from Dorne.  She told herself to put this aside. It was all speculation and that brings us nowhere. I am here and have a true path to walk so I will follow it to its end for my mother and for Jon’s mother as well. 

She rolled over into the furs and closed her eyes.  She wanted to relive each touch between them. Each time he held her hands she was overcome by a grand feeling of safety, a feeling of being taken in and shielded.  In fact, she wasn’t surprised that he had returned to her chamber last night after his ride.  Even though it was mostly small banter and minor confessions, they were moving to the point where they could express more. Neither of us knows what the future holds. She could tell Jon was a thinker like herself and knew the impact of every word. So he was as careful as she had been.

She had been flirtatious too. Did I actually throw a grape at the King in the North and true heir to the Iron Throne? But then, he threw one right back at her. Her mind turn to his kiss. She could still feel his lips on her’s.  He had truly kissed her, not like the comforting kisses of holding hands as one might kiss a child. Actually, she had kissed him first, hadn't she, when the tears ran down his face.  This was becoming so confusing. All the courtly manners interfering and obscuring the two real people beneath.  When his two tears fell, she had watched them well up in his eyes and trickle down his cheeks.  For his mother, she kissed one away and he had left embarrassed.

Marisol felt like they were in orbit around each other, some kind of pull and push like the tides of Santorini. Somethings cannot be resisted. She was overjoyed that he had come back to see her after his day away from the castle. That's when he kissed her.  She knew Jon was too much of a gentleman to ever press himself upon her. Her Lady mother had always told her a woman must wait. Then welcome each advance. That kiss begin the waves rolling inside her.  She felt like she was like she was swimming in the ocean, it was engulfing her. They had only kissed once. Both holding back as they knew they should.  Propriety held them back.  And what if she was wrong?  What is these emotions she saw were not the beginning of something between them but, just his release from the startling story she had come to relate to him?

As she lay back in the bed snuggled under the furs, she ran these musings over and over in her head until she was making herself dizzy.  It must have been her imagination. She thought she heard a soft knock on the door. Just a few seconds later there was another knock on the door. To her surprise it was Jon, in his rumpled sleeping tunic and comically baggie breeches.  And of all things, barefoot!

 

 King in the North/Jon

 

“I know it is still very early my lady, but I feared that your fire would run low as I had not seen to stocking it last night with extra wood.” He explained.

He had a young squire behind him, looking quite roused from sleep. The boy was carrying wood for her fire.

“Just put it in front of the hearth and I will take care of the rest.”

At this the boy did as he was told sleepily mumbling a “Yes, Your Grace” and then left the room.  

“SHSHSHSHSHHHHH.” whispered Jon with his finger to his lips, “Please allow me to bank your fire, Marisol.”

Jon turned toward the hearth and began to fuss over the logs until he finally had them placed to his liking. The fire came alive beneath his skilled hands.

“As my guest you are of great importance to me and knowing that you are so unaccustomed to our cold, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable and warm.” he said from the hearth, stealing glances at her through those amazingly thick lashes. She noticed. “I could've called one of the servants for you but I came instead.”

                                                           _Yes you did, didn't you!_

“You know you're barefoot?”

“I guess I am.  When I woke I thought of you and jumped out of bed to come to you.  Excuse my appearance. I always hold hospitality to my guests first before myself”

Your toes look a little worse for wear, My Lord. I think you need a good Santorini black sand scrub.”

Jon looked down at his feet as if it was the first time he had noticed them. “It's the cold and the boots, My Lady.  I do not have the soft feet you have.  I have the feet of a warrior. You must excuse me now, I have my own routine to tend to.

We can discuss my toes later.”  He bowed his head to her and slipped out the door.

 

Arya

 

Marisol and Arya were outside in the main yard when they saw the raven arrive. Arya dropped her practice sword and sprinted toward the Maester’s chamber.

“A raven!” she yelled, “A raven!” to alert everyone in the household.  

Samwell Tarly was running around trying to coax the raven to come to him. It was so excited that he finally tossed down some crushed corn in order for it to settle. He gently coaxed it into his hand and then carefully unwound the message from its leg. As he began to read a wide grin spread across his face.

“Lord Bran is coming” he announced, “He and Lady Meera. They said they have good news.”

Bran and Meera had been visiting her father Lord Howland Reed for the past fortnight. Arya already had an idea what the good news was. Lord Reed must have consented to Bran's proposal to marry Meera.  It was wonderful news she hoped. Bran and Meera had been together through the long journey to find the Three Eyed Raven. At first, it seemed like Meera had taken a motherly role, caring for him on the trek north. She had lost much to help Bran. Her only brother Jojen had given his life for Bran just as Lord Reed had lived his life for Lord Eddard. The bonds between the two men had been forged as knights together during Robert’s rebellion. Lord Reed was one of the few persons still alive that knew the truth of Jon’s parentage. It was quite fitting that Bran should marry Meera. Not only did she love him but she understood him.

 

Marisol

 

Sansa got the news from Arya with Marisol running behind her. They were both flushed with excitement.  Though, Marisol knew the stories, she had never met anyone who peopled her mother’s stories. She was ecstatic at the way the Stark family seemed to be coming back together.  She wondered for a heartbeat how she fit into all this. Somehow, with Jon, she hoped.

Jon entered the room after hearing all of the commotion. “Sam, just gave me the news from Bran.”

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Jon had been thinking about out riding out to check on the new families outside of the walls of Winterfell. He had become distracted watching Arya and Marisol in the yard when the raven came. He couldn’t seem satisfy his desire to be close to Marisol. Was this right? At least she had not rebuffed him. He couldn’t help himself. Watching her with Arya was like watching two graceful dancers.  Their practice foils caught the light and when they met they rang clearly.

Jon was excited to see his younger brother. Since Bran had become the Three Eyed Raven, he and Lady Meera had been traveling to ensure the welfare of the Children of the Forest. Their numbers had been decimated after the war with the wights. It was his goal to create refuges, places of safety so they would no longer have to hide in the caves. His real hope was that the Children of the Forest would be part of bringing the new spring to fruition and helping them to have an endless summer.

Jon turned to Marisol, “You will finally meet Bran. This is fortuitous for us that you are with us. We will have to have many nights to we compare the stories and weave them together into one understanding. It would help us all. It seems that you actually can verify the knowledge that Bran had seen with your mother’s stories.”

                       _At least with Marisol with me, I can parse out truth from myth. I can put my life in her hands._

“Only a fortnight” Sansa worried, “I must do my Lady Mother proud and open Winterfell in all its grandeur for them. A homecoming is the most special of events.  And with that a marriage I hope! Marisol, I trust that you will help me to ready Winterfell?”

“Yes of course. Anything, anything that you need. I am at your disposal.”

Jon got a serious look in his grey eyes and turned to Marisol, “I promised we would to go to the crypts today. I wish for my brother to be with us when we go. Marisol, may we wait until my brother arrives. It would please him so much to be part of fulfilling your mother’s wishes”

“Of course, we must wait for them. This will be even more auspicious and meaningful for us all.”

Suddenly everyone had a task to perform. Sansa grabbed Arya and Marisol, “Quick come with me. My lists are going to be long. I need your help!”

Sansa grabbed Jon. “Please go to Samwell and reply to the raven. Is there anyone else we should invite?”

Jon hesitated for a moment and in his usual thoughtful manner he said, “I will confer with Sam and Ser Davos. You know Sansa, I am not one to be making guest lists or wedding invitations.”

“Well then you better figure something out Jon! You are King in the North. I'm sure that at least Lady Mormont should be invited.”

Jon started off to see Sam and the ladies followed Sansa toward the kitchens. Sansa was like a whirlwind. As Jon got to the door, he turned around and came back to Marisol. He tried to stand very close to her. He craved her smell. He craved her touch. He needed to touch her. He took her hand and she turned toward him.

“Yes, Jon?”

He raised his hand and brushed some stray hairs from her face. He smoothed the hairs that had loosened from her braid, “Will you accompany me to the Godswood? Can you try to tear yourself away from Sansa?”

“I’d be happy to Jon, although first I feel I should assist in some of her lists and help with preparations.”

“Yes” he said I have some errands myself. I hope to find you in the Godswood in two hours.”

This time, his lips barely brushed the crescent of her ear and he whispered, “You will be there, won't you?”

“Of course’ she replied. Marisol met Jon’s gaze. In his eyes, she glimpsed her future and she realized what her mother had known all along, that their fates were entwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just fell into place. They need time but they're in a rush. Please let me know what you think so I can make improvements. Thank you for reading. I'm enjoying the writing.


	6. The Godswood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Marisol meet in the Godswood and have quite a conversation!

Chapter Six

imagine i kiss you with empty hands

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Jon was already in the Godswood when Marisol arrived. He was standing by the pool of black water near the ancient Weirwood tree, "Marisol” Jon said “will you walk with me in the Godswood?”

“Certainly”

He walked to her as she entered. Jon extended his hand to her and she took it. He lead her slowly back toward the heart tree. “My esteem for you is beyond bounds” he began, “I'm afraid that if I don't hold myself as a gentleman I will be lost to you.”

“Lost to me? she questioned apprehensively.

“No I don't mean lost to you as in away from you. I feel so comfortable, so simply happy, that if I allow myself, I will just succumb to my desire for you. I don't know how to say this without sounding crude but, I wanted you from the from the first moment that you held your hand out to me and I kissed it.  A shock ran through my soul.”

Marisol let her fingers entwine with his and she drew closer to him. “I know” she replied and leaned toward him. He smelled like the pine trees of the Godswood and the faintest scent of his leathers. She inhaled deeply as if she could save this moment forever.

Jon continued earnestly looking into her eyes. He could feel her heart beat. He felt her pulse quickened. “I feel somehow we are bound together. Somewhere in this world or another there is a silken cord and I am tethered to you. You are like the sun and all I want to do is orbit around you like the moon orbits the earth and the earth orbits the sun. You and I, we have a bond. A bond I wish never to break.  A bond I wish to strengthen with all my heart.” 

          _Gods, I sound like a love sick poet, not a king or a warrior._

At that moment, they came both facing the ancient Weirwood tree. “The old gods are here in this sacred place of promises that should not be broken. It is where my Lord Father came to pray. It is the place of strength and gathering of will.

They both reached out and touched the heart tree together with their free hands.

“Do you feel it” she said, Can you feel it beneath our hands. It is speaking to us.”

“It only speaks to me because of you, my Marisol.”

“It speaks to you because you are good and true.”

“I am as flawed as any man, maybe more. I have broken my vows, been responsible for much death, perhaps even my own.”

“No that’s not true. You did everything for the right reasons.”

“I’m never sure. I constantly question my actions.”

“Do you feel that way about Ygritte?”

“No she was of the free folk. I knew that I could only possess her as much as she would allow. At that time, even though we spoke the words of love, we both knew there was some limitation. Honestly though, I would've given her everything. I would've given my life for her but, in the end, she gave her life for her people. Somehow, I know that they would always come first. For that I respect her. There are few people in this world with so much strength. Only at the very last moments, as she lay dying in my arms did I see more deeply into her eyes. Then did I see the woman she really wanted to give to me. When she said we never should've left the cave she was right. There we were none but ourselves pure and loving. At that moment it was just us but, I knew somehow it would never be like that again. I loved her though. I still do.  I love her for the woman she was. For everything she taught me and for everything she believed in. She brought me to a different place in my life.” he exhaled deeply and looked into the black pool.

 

Marisol

 

“That different place is here with me.” Marisol said confidently. “Now, I realize that neither of us are completely pure or chaste. We cannot say that we have never loved another. Of course we have. We are not children. I don't say this to demean our feelings in anyway but, love is a bit of trial and error. We must let these errors empower us and bring us to the next step.”

Their hands had been slowly moving together on the Weirwood tree. Jon took her hand from the eyes of the tree and kissed it. Kissed each fingertip, each knuckle and then turned her hand over and kissed her palm. Somehow so naturally, they folded into each other. Marisol rested her head on Jon's chest. She could hear his heartbeat, his breathing.  She felt she could hear his words before they came. They stood there quiet, listening to each other's hearts, each other's breath.

 

King in the North/Jon

 

Jon put his hand on her face and turned her lips up to meet his. The feeling that coursed through him was like snow lightning. Her lips trembled but, became more and more sure as his lips pressed upon hers. “My Lady of the Sea” he breathed into her ear, “I need you to be mine”

She caught her breath, “I am yours irrevocably. Somehow, I think I was destined to be yours from the minute our mothers' met and became friends. The paths of our stars are not mistaken.”

“You are right. The stars are constant though the sky is ever-changing. Do you remember the first morning I met you? I do. Before we went to the solar, I was privileged to drape a cloak around your shoulders. I should've known then, the meaning of the gesture. That something so simple would bring us to this place.”

Jon pulled her deeper into his arms. He pulled her until their hearts beat a duet and their breath came together. This time he kissed her more fervently. His lips crushing down on hers and yet she yielded. The soft of her lips met his with the same urgency. He could feel her body curving into his like two pieces of a whole. They kissed until they were absolutely breathless and mortal with desire.

Marisol looked at Jon and asked, “My King, my Jon, is this seeming for us to be so impatient, so impetuous in the Godswood?

“I don't know.” he replied, “Are we not asking their blessing”

“I think we already have it.”

“My Lady Marisol, it is cold outside. I think we need a warmer place to continue these prayers.”

“Yes, Jon, a much warmer place to pray, these prayers of kisses.”

That was funny, she was always making little plays on words, puns and innuendos. It was endearing, witty and smart. She will be a good queen for me. He own thoughts surprising himself.

Jon scooped Marisol up into his arms, even though she was wearing the warm boots and socks.

“Let's go inside.” he said.

Marisol laid her head on his broad shoulder and said “I will go with you anywhere. Beyond limit and reason, I will be with you.”

Jon carried her into the King's Keep and up the stairs of the ancient stairs until he came to his rooms. He set her down in front of his door and got on one knee. “Will you come in with me? Will you stay?

“Of course I will.”

Jon opened the door and allowed her to walk in. Then he shut the door behind them. Once inside he helped her to remove her cloak and furs. Again, Jon thought of the day he had draped the warm fur about her and he knew this was how it was meant to be.

Marisol stood before him like a miracle. Radiant and confident. Their eyes locked for a moment. Now I know what I've been living for. Now I know why I deserved another life.

               _Gods he thought what do I do now? I cannot bed her like a wildling she is more precious._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are enjoying this. I'm sorry, Jon Snow, if far to honorable of a man to just through Marisol on the ground of the Godswood and he wants to do things the right way. Yes, I know the chapter numbering is off. Remember Chapter Three has 2 parts.


	7. Snow Thunder, Crashing Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first intimate encounter. But not all and everything. They are both too conscious of propriety and courtly manners.

Chapter Seven

while a possible horizon meets the sea

 

Marisol

 

Jon’s rooms were comfortable.  The fireplace was huge with many logs stacked nearby. Above the fireplace were a variety of swords made of dragon glass.  Each blade was hand carved and reflected what seemed like flames dancing off its sharp edges.  The hilts were simple, though finally wrought. They were as magical as the legends had described.  There was a huge window looking out toward the Wolfswood.  Though it was almost twilight, the white of the snow bounced back a brilliance that surprised her. The soft deepening blue of the sky holding an almost full moon and its companion stars, catching and reflecting the light.

“My Marisol, you do me a great honor. Please excuse my propriety.  We have only known each other for such a short time”

“We are outside of time.” Marisol smiled and took his hand, “Somethings cannot be discouraged.”

She pulled him toward her.  Jon stepped forward and took her in his arms.  He caressed her cheek and ran his fingers to trace her lips with his callused warrior’s hand. He pulled her face toward his and their lips met. Snow thunder and the crash of waves. Her lips parted slightly and she let his tongue trace her bottom lip, then the top. He slid his tongue into her mouth and her tongue darted and swirled around his like small fish chasing each other round and round. They inhaled each other's breath and their lips softened against each other as they parted.

“We are like dolphins rising for breath so that we may dive back into each other”

 

The King in the North/Jon

 

“I have only seen the dolphins on our way to Dorne.  As we sailed in, they escorted us, coming near the boat to laugh and smile and then dive beneath the waves.” Jon recalled. “Please sit by the fire and I will get us some wine.”

Obviously, even though Jon had been out of his chambers for some time, the servants understood their Lord’s needs and had left two bottles of Arbor Gold on the table along with some cheeses, breads, Sansa’s favorite lemon cakes bread and fresh apples.

“I see they have left us quite a feast.”

It was quite obvious that there was enough for two, so Sansa had probably alerted the cook to Jon's need for as he would be entertaining company. Jon open the wine bottle with his dagger and poured the wine into two goblets with the dire wolf sigil embossed on them. He brought the wine over to Marisol.

“Do you have need of anything else right now My Lady? I must bank the fire to warm you.”

“I have need of nothing at all My Lord.  With you, Jon I am complete.

Jon turned got down on his knees and banked the fire until it was roaring.  Marisol savored the wine, trying to taste each fruit included in the vintage.  It's seem to contain apples and the lush golden grapes native to Westeros.  In Santorini, the grapes grew in clusters from small plants hugging the earth to escape the wind. The Arbor Gold was very sweet. She watched Jon as he worked the fire, banking it into a perfect flame.

“There, to my satisfaction and yours I hope.” he said. 

He took his goblet and drank deeply. “This Arbor Gold is much better than our flat ale from The Wall.”

Jon was still on his knees and he had turned to face her. He finished his glass of wine and put it down on the floor near her chair and then put one hand on each arm of the chair.

“I don't know how to do any of this in the correct manner. When I see you I lose my mind. I've told you things I've never told anybody before. I've been more brutally honest with you then I've even been with myself.  I need you in my life no matter what I found out about my lineage or this position I have assumed. None of this made sense until I saw you.  You were smiling at me, shining beautiful and perfect. And there I was, broken, maimed, confused. My heart whispered to me, she can change all that. It's crazy. I feel as though every moment of the past was just part of bringing me step by step to you. You must think me a fool or that I have been at war too long.”

 

Marisol

 

“No I don't Jon. The amazing part is that I feel the same way. Every step, everything I did was only bringing me closer and closer to you.”

Jon let go of the arms of the chair and slid his arms around her waist. He lay his head in her lap. She ran her hand through his dark curls and whispered to him.

“Like the sea shells I can find along the beach, we have been tossed by fierce waves. Some are battered or broken, some intact. Each is exqusite by its very nature. Incredibly, we have arrived at the place where we both belong, true to our nature, sheltered within each other.”

Marisol bent down and kissed his head tenderly.  Jon raised his head and brought his hand to her face. He ran his fingers down the angle of her cheek and to her lips. She gave his thumb a playful kiss. Jon raised his head to meet her lips and they kissed urgently, their lips searching the others, their tongues chased each other's. Jon pulled her towards him. As she slid from the chair, he caught her and laid her down in front of the hearth.

 

The King in the North/Jon

 

           _Not like a wildling, no not like a wildling!_

But it was too late. They continued to kiss with increased fervor. Marisol clung to Jon pulling herself into the curve of him.

“I will never let go. Let me take you to the bed. This is not proper for my lady.”

Jon carefully lifted Marisol from the floor and carried her to his bed continuing his onslaught of kisses down her neck and to her mouth. He reverently placed her on the bed amidst the furs. Jon lay down next to her. He encircled her in his arms and Marisol’s hands traced the planes of his face. They lay content with only the sound hearts and breath.

           _There is a sanctuary in your arms, where time is something I can hold in my hand_

“Marisol, tomorrow is the Winter Solstice. Will you ride out with me to the small folk? There is a celebration in Wintertown. I want you with me.”

Jon kissed her eyelids, ran his lips down the curve of her cheek to her neck. Her hands tangled in his thick curls. He continued tentatively down the curve of her neck, stopping at the hollow of her neck. His lips feeling her shudder.

“Yes, Jon. The answer is yes.”

He continued down the slope of her collar bone and nestled his head just above her breasts. With shaking hands, Marisol untied the bodice of her dress to expose her breasts to his mouth.

           _There is a point immaculate between your breasts where harmony overcomes_

“My Lady Marisol, my gods…….”

“Yours, if you wish.”

“Beyond all my wishes.”

           _It’s already too late, angels fly from my fingertips gently_

Jon gently extended his fingertips toward her nipples. They were already hard. He began to rub them with the palm of his hand, making concentric circles, first soft almost tickling them. He pressed more firmly until Marisol gasped. Jon could not hold back. He lifted her to his mouth, teasing each nipple delighted as Marisol softly repeated his name like a mantra.

           _Somewhere between these lips petulant vortex pressed palm of my hand_

Marisol shuddered as his tongue traced spirals from her nipple and around her areola. He took her nipple in his mouth and first nipped, then surrounded it with his full lips, drinking fully of her. She shook each time Jon suckled each breast in turn. Her breathing was ragged and heaving. She called his name like a prayer.

          _The love line extends off itself infinitely becoming_

Jon kissed a journey back to her mouth. Their lips touched, snow thunder, waves crashing. Exhausted with holding desire at bay, they gave into each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add the next chapter so badly. I can't believe that I'm having difficulty writing a sex scene. I want it to be poetic rather than just graphic for the sake of fucking. I'm totally hung up on the physical logistics of each gesture. This is crazy. I want this to be real to the characters and I do not believe that Jon would just strip Marisol and do her, even if they both want it. They are functioning in a world of courtly rules and propriety. So, I'm trying to the let the characters lead me. Please comment.... please help! I appreciate and need all comments and criticism.


	8. Winter Solstice, The Shortest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG, the Starks celebrate the Winter Solstice. They perform their duties to the people of the North. Everyone loves Marisol, especially Jon. He is blown away. He has been trying to be a gentleman but her wants her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter had to be cut into 2 parts because its so long. I'm have trouble with logistics. I want to write a great sex chapter but I seem to need to walk my characters through every step toward the bed! Next chapter finally has a sex scene. I agonize over every movement.

Chapter Eight       

                   One line spells itself along the horizon

 

Marisol

When Marisol awoke it was still dark. She could see the dome of sky through Jon’s window. It was getting toward morning as the sky was deep blue sloping toward the horizon. The full moon hung low and was encircled by a halo of ice crystals. The day would be astoundingly cold. She could feel Jon’s warm steady breath on her neck as he held her still in his arms. Marisol realized she was wearing only her pink silk shift and small clothes. Jon had lost his tunic and shirt. She lifted her head slightly to glimpse their clothing and shoes heaped together at the foot of his bed. Marisol yawned and curled back into Jon’s arms to steal a bit more sleep.

Loud, deliberate knocking on the door woke Jon, just as the horizon was pinking up before the sun rose fully.

“It's only the shortest day of the year. Are you going to spend all the daylight hours in bed?  Come on, you know how much I love winter solstice. Tell Marisol that I left a huge pile of warm clothing on her bed.” At that, Arya gave a full throated laugh.

“Shhhhhhhhhh” Jon whispered and kissed Marisol full on the mouth. “Don’t say anything or she’ll drag us out of bed!”

“Well I thought so! Remember, we have strict orders from Sansa. We must all look our best. She will NOT be seen with us if we look all cobbled together like a band of sellswords. So get up!” Arya yelled.

 

King in the North/Jon

“Have the horses brought round and the carts as well.” Jon instructed the groomsmen.

Ser Davos came out of the stables leading his brown bay and wearing a new deep blue cloak. He waved to Jon. “I’ll be riding out with you. What do you think? Lady Sansa has sewn me up into a proper gentleman.”

“A project it was, Ser Davos. I recognize the embroidery by my sister’s own hand. Waves marching along the hem. Very fine, indeed!”

“How goes it with our visitor, Lady Sea Sauvage? I’ve had difficulty finding you since her arrival. Entertaining, you’re Grace?”

“Actually, she prefers to be called Marisol which means ocean and sun in the language of her island. She has brought many interesting revelations and gifts from her mother. She knew my mother. I confess, I am disconcerted. So much to think about. So much. But, not today. The solstice. Not enough hours in this day. Except to celebrate.”

Jon watched as his sisters walked across the yard and waited as their horses were brought round. Marisol came just behind them. She was wearing the House Stark grey cloak and furs that Jon had given her to keep her warm. He hoped she was wearing warm socks too.

“My Ladies, most fair.” saluted Ser Davos with a bow.

Before the ladies got onto their horses, Jon checked each saddle. He helped Sansa on to her favorite dapple grey mare.  Arya helped Jon with her buckskin mare and he allowed her to independently mount with ease. Finally, Jon secured the saddle on Marisol’s piebald and helped her on. Their eyes met and locked. Marisol had to blink for fear of impropriety.

As he handed her the reins he said, “My Lady, ride with me.”

“Open the gates!” commanded Arya.

 

Marisol

Though the air was colder than cold, Marisol inhaled deeply. She filled her lungs feeling the rush of wind against her lips. She could taste this cold, the pines, the frost, the snow.

“Of course I'll ride with you.”

Jon leaned over and kissed her gloved hands before he mounted his black destrider.

“Thank you My Lady, you do me a great honor.”

So they rode out of Winterfell together. Arya galloped out in front, anxious as usual with Nymeria by her side. Then came Jon between Marisol and Sansa. Finally, Ser Davos’ riding closely behind. Sansa was most concerned with the carts as they were bringing food to distribute to everyone. Arya suddenly wheeled her horse and rode back to Jon.

“Jon, Jon the foxfire, please we can't forget the foxfire. It should be at its brightest tonight.”

“Of course I would never forget it. Anything that makes you happy. We will ride to the Godswood tonight.”

“What is foxfire?” Marisol asked.

“It’s magic!” Arya explained. “When a tree start to die, the soul of the tree glows brightly within its decaying shell and on winter solstice it glows brightest. I love to walk through the woods and imagine I see fairy fires. The lights seem like lanterns glowing green in the dark.”

“I too want to see the foxfire. I believe in fairies.”

“Then we will go this night.” promised Jon.

They rode out together toward the Wolfswood and the smallest group of houses. They were greeted immediately by the small folk with shouts of King in the North and Always a Stark in Winterfell. Sansa supervised the distribution of bread, hard cheese and the dried meat that they had brought from Winterfell.  

“Imagine Jon,” Sansa observed, “because of the peace you have brought the North, one day all of this land will be filled with homes. It doesn't matter, free folk, northmen, anyone who wants to live within our protection. Father would be so proud of you.”

As the day wore on Marisol never stopped helping Sansa hand out provisions. She was greeted kindly by all as Jon always introduced her as MY Lady Marisol. He never took his eyes her unless he had to. In the North it got dark very quickly, so by late afternoon there were bonfires everywhere. 

“I think we should head back towards Winter town now.” Ser Davos’ suggested, his own southern bones feeling the cold.

Sure enough, after visiting all the homes, the carts were empty.  Jon decided to leave them with the largest group of homes for their use. He apologized for not being able to give any garrons to pull the carts but, the small folk laughed and said there is no need.

“My King you have already given us so much. You have brought peace and we have been able to settle and grow our families in the knowledge that the white walkers are defeated. The White Wolf is our sworn protector.” declared the elder man of the families.

Everyone rode back toward Winter town satisfied. As they approached, they could see that the festivities had begun. There was a roaring bonfire in the main square which was little more than a large yard. The people of Winter town were used to seeing the Stark family and most worked in the castle. It was easy for everyone to dismount and gather around the bonfire to warm themselves without much fanfare. A stable boy had come out to gather their horses.

Jon had been watching Marisol all day. He noted that she had been taught well to care for the people under her house’s protection. She cared much for the small folk. He had watched her talking with the children and the mothers with just as much ease as she spoke with the farmers. He was especially touched by the way that she had kind words for the older people. She had left each and every one with a touch of her hand in blessing. She hugged all the small children, shook hands with the men and made sure that she had spoken with and held the hands of every mother. Jon could see that she made an excellent impression on everyone. Marisol left each person with words of encouragement and her beautiful smile.

As they stood around the fire, cups of strong ale were brought out to them from The Smoking Log. Jon excused himself from his conversation with Ser Davos and some of the men from the village and walked over to Marisol. Gendry had come out of the castle’s forge and was with Arya. Marisol and Sansa were deep in conversation and warming their hands and feet at the fire.

Jon greeted them. “Sansa you truly are the Lady of Winterfell. I am so grateful to you today. You make Lady Catelyn proud.” He hugged his sister.

He turned to Marisol and took her hands. “You have a touch with the small folk.”

“Yes,” agreed Sansa, “When I was at Kings Landing, Queen Margaery used to walk among the people but, I could still see the distain in her eyes. She did many good works. She always did her duty but, I'm sure that afterwards she took just as  many baths until she felt cleansed of them all.” 

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” “What do you think about the North now?” Jon asked.

“I think it's colder than cold.”

At this Jon stepped toward her and pulled her close. They all drank another cup of ale and watched the last sliver of sun sink beneath the horizon. Little by little Marisol inched her way closer to Jon without trying to be improper. She leaned back against his chest and rested her head on his chin. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck. She could feel his arms encircle her waist. With the bonfire blazing and heating her cheeks Marisol felt safe and warm. Three pints later everyone decided it was time to go home.

“My Lady are you still cold?” he breathed into her hair.

 

Marisol

Marisol had spent a wonderful day with the Starks. She felt very comfortable with them. She truly enjoyed visiting the small folk and helping them with provisions for the long winter. She remembered riding out with her mother, checking on the people of their island. Her mother had always been most generous and Marisol hoped that she was making her family proud. The best part of all was Jon. It was wonderful being with him all day. She loved every time he introduced her, calling her MY Lady. She definitely wanted to be his. They were very formal and courtly but, she and Jon had managed many sidelong glances and smiles at each other along the way. He made it a point to lift her down off her horse each time they stopped even though it was quite clear she could dismount by herself. Every day Jon's sisters were becoming more and more dear to her. Growing up as an only child, she had missed that level of companionship. As she watch them all together she began to realize the depth of love they shared for each other. And the way they all knew each other, all of their quirks and imperfections, and still loved each other for them all.

When they got back to the Great Keep, a supper of venison stew and vegetables, Winterfell’s wonderful bread and wine had been laid out for everyone. This was definitely a day and evening for celebrating. Marisol and Sansa had been a bit in their cups as they walked back to Winterfell together whispering.

“I have not seen Jon smile so much in a very long time. I believe it is because of you Marisol.”

“I hope so.”, Marisol blushed. “I had been quite apprehensive about this journey. I am delightfully surprised by the warmth and acceptance of your family. And Jon, I had no idea. I have fallen in love with the real person behind my mother’s stories. It is a dream, I fear I’ll wake from.”

 

King in the North/Jon

Jon and Ser Davos had walked back to the castle deep in discussion of the continued renovations of Winterfell and ideas for strengthening their political position. They talked about the differences between North and South and both remarked how comfortable Lady Marisol was with the North.

“Something about it suits her,” Ser Davos said, “and I don't think it's the cold.”

“What do you mean?” answered Jon hoping for an honest opinion that would confirm his feelings.

“You know what I mean Jon. I can see the way you two look at each other. I can also see how she touches you. You have never let any woman get so close to you since Ygritte.”

“That’s true. I had closed those feelings away. I hope she will have me. Honestly, I must say she suits me! I have fallen in love.”

After dinner Jon approached Marisol, who was still deep in conversation with Sansa.  Much wine had been offered and clearly both had consumed the Arbor Gold for more that chasing the chill from a day out in the cold.

“I trust that you are both warmed?”

“I must excuse myself for a warm bath.” said Sansa coyly and winked at Marisol.

“I would like to search for the magic foxfire. I loved Arya’s story about the souls of the trees and I have always fancied meeting a fairy.”

“Then I will oblige you. I’m sure we can find some in the Godswood.”

Jon extended his hand to her and pulled her close. His lips could wait no longer for her kiss. He stepped closer to her and they both kissed hungrily, devouring each other. They were among family. He didn't care who saw them. Marisol was the one. They continued to hold hands, entwining their fingers. When they ran out of breath, Jon raised her hands to his lips and kissed each knuckle of her now chapped hands.

“I liked seeing you in a Stark cloak, you realize.”

"I liked wearing your cloak."

Jon found his cloak and draped it around her shoulders, again as they walked through the halls and toward the Godswood. He guided her along the well-worn path and then among the trees deeper into the woods. From above, they could see the full moon haloed in ice crystals. Their breath crystalized as well. Finally, among a clump of old soldier pine, Jon saw the green glow of the foxfire. Marisol was enthralled. She leaned into Jon and tried to memorize the night. The luminescent full moon crowned with ice, pine trees and the wind murmuring through them, the glow of the exotic foxfire and the warmth and strength of Jon. They kissed long and hard and desperate until they heard a stifled giggle come from somewhere in the woods.

“Arya, we found the foxfire. Come round. We will leave you two alone as I fear that Marisol is cold.” At that Jon lifted Marisol and carried her back to his chambers.


	9. Winter Solstice, The Longest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank the Old Gods, they finally made love!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so difficult to write. I had trouble staying in the period of the piece! Please send me comments to assist me. I would appreciate all ideas.

Chapter Nine 

                   Push, push into the sea of me

 

Marisol

                  _Gods, be damned, I want him_.

Jon scooped Marisol into his arms and she let him. He walked quickly down the path, kissing her with every other step he took. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder. She could feel his sheer strength as he easily held her to him. She felt his need, his desire, his heart. He had her heart, he had her soul, if he wanted it. Marisol knew he wanted her and she was ready to give herself to him completely.

“May I?” he asked between kisses.

“There is no answer but yes.”

Once in his rooms, he placed Marisol reverently on his high bed among the furs. For a moment, he stood before the bed just looking at her. He shook his head, as if to awaken himself from a dream, sending his dark curls into further disarray. Marisol beckoned him to her. She held her hand out to him.

“Come to me. I cannot wait a heartbeat more.”

“Nor can I.”

Jon climbed on to the bed. He lay down next to Marisol and ran his fingers across her lips. As his thumb traced the outline of her mouth, she bit it, shaking her head slightly and letting go a breathy coy growl. 

          _Push, push into the sea of me._

There was no hesitation. The world went soft focus and all that remained was Jon. In a moment, they were pulling each other’s clothing off. Jon unlaced Marisol’s boots and tossed them aside then quickly kicked his own off. Marisol whispered his name over and over. They became their own universe.

           _Push, push into the sea of me._

Marisol reached up and encircled his neck with her arms. She pulled him directly onto her, smoothly inhaling his scent as his warm hard chest grazed her nipples. Their eyes remained locked one upon the other.

“Please Jon, please, I can bear this propriety no longer”

“Tonight is the longest of nights. Will you bear me for all the hours of this night?”

“For all the hours of every night.”

Jon's eyes flashed deep gray as their lips met. His tongue opened her mouth gently. He tasted of the wine, sweet like the day had been, utterly sweet. Their tongues chased each other until they had no breath left. Their lips parted reluctantly. His kisses traveled her neck spiraling down. Finally, tasting her breasts, his tongue swirled around each areola as her nipples hardened. Marisol's hands went to his face. She traced the scars on his forehead before sliding her hands into his curls. Jon looked up, his eyes wide and peaceful. His lips full and unrepentant.

“May find your pearl, my lady of the sea?”

“Yes, yes.” she breathed out quickly.

Jon began to kiss a trail down between her breasts to her belly button, then along the sweet curve of her stomach. His hands caressed her skin, sending sparks through her. Jon moved down inch by inch, worshiping each curve of her. Marisol couldn’t tell if it was his tongue, his hands or his lips and she didn’t care. Her body followed his progression, her hands grasping his hair, unable to let go.

“Oh my, oh Jon, Jon.”

Marisol moaned in utter but, willing surprise as he lifted her hips and brought her cunt to his mouth. His tongue flirted with her as his tongue found her most sensitive spot. Marisol felt an explosion of pleasure starting at her center and rippling outward.  Jon’s hands gently lifted her to his mouth pouring her into him. His tongue circled the place he called her pearl. Marisol was overflowing with ecstasy.  Her hands instinctively went to her breasts. She began to kneed her hard nipples with the palms of her hands and trace the same circles he was tracing with his tongue. Then his tongue slid down into her cunt. This was another deeper explosion, a dazzling heat over took her and she gasped. He continued drinking from her like a goblet of the sweetest wine. Her hips pressed to his mouth as he slid his tongue in and out deeper and deeper each time. Marisol had not known of this pleasure. And then, there was more. Jon’s fingers replaced his tongue inside her and slowly curved and pushed until they found a place she never knew she had. Her body took over and she began to curve and curl herself toward his fingers as they slid in and out of her. Faster and faster, his hand urged her into a rhythm like waves crashing to the shore. She flowed with each wave, cresting then roaring as it hit the beach. Her cunt rocked with the waves. Marisol shuddered as Jon’s fingers drove into her. She could not stop panting as her cunt tightened, dilated and spiraled into orgasm.  He lifted his head up to look at her, hair disheveled and eyes searching her soul for approval. His eyes reflected the fire like a spark of lightning during a blizzard.

“Jon, I never knew.”

She whispered leaning forward and pulling him to her mouth. Her lips traced his and tasted her own salty sweet moisture on them. Jon wrapped his arms around her arse holding her. Each kiss deeper, resonating down her spine and into her cunt.

“Trust me.”

“Push, push into the sea of me.”

Jon gently laid her back on the bed. They fell backwards onto the bed. Marisol’s hands found his manhood and guided it into her. They both lay still, captured at this moment of ecstasy. Marisol inhaled and then Jon began to push deeper and deeper into her. The deeper he pushed, the more she could feel her self allowing him in.  She felt wide open like sky. Marisol began to move with him. There was no rush. This was slow and deep. With each of his thrusts she pushed her hips to meet his. This was surprising as each movement was better than the last. She was the ocean, full and surging.  John lifted himself above her so he could look into her eyes and see her whole body to where they joined. A conjunction of ocean and prayer, sacred, profane. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. Only Jon surging inside her. Jon nuzzling her breasts. Jon.

“My love, am I pleasing you.”

“As long as you never stop until the sun rises.”

Jon thrust into her harder this time and she began to feel the arc of her desire. First, a white hot point in her center expanding outward. Slowly Jon lowered himself back down so they were chest to breasts. Her nipples tingling as their bodies met skin to skin. Without pulling out, John rolled Marisol on her side and slid further into her. They lay on their sides engulfed in each other. She pulsed in in his arms as they continued to make love. Their legs tangled as he thrust more and more deeply into her.

 

King in the North/Jon

Jon had never felt the bliss of letting go to someone, of trusting so completely. He wanted to please her so much. A part of him ached to come. He wanted to but, first all he wanted to do was ensure her ultimate satisfaction. He wanted to satisfy her as a man. It had been so long. His life had been taken from him and he didn’t know if he could fuck her until she came as she deserved. Jon realized that she would make everything different for him. Nothing would ever be the same. They moved in unison, each against the other. Marisol clung to him crying it out his name. Her areola were pink and swollen from his tongue. She was smiling eyes closed and serene and as he plunged into her. Jon felt himself melt away into her core. He let himself go. He wanted to engulf her, eyes to eyes, heartbeat to beating heart. He felt the hardness of her nipples each time their bodies came together. Jon could not resist and bent his head down and took them one after another in his mouth with each flick of his tongue. Marisol gasped and he could feel her tighten around his manhood. Her muscles gripped him in her. He needed her to unfold to him and with each thrust he felt she was like a rose opening. Opening, blooming at his touch. Laying on their sides, eyes locked, they continued to undulate slowly.

“Am I hurting you?”

“You are so tender.” she laughed.

Marisol ran her fingers through his tangled hair. She pulled his face back to hers and kissed his forehead down his nose to his lips. Jon opened his mouth to hers and again like porpoises they breathed together. Their bodies were rocked by the waves of their love making. Marisol pushed her hips into his to drive him deeper into her.

“Let me make you come” Jon panted.

“No I want to come with you I wanted to be together for this time and every time.”

 Jon lifted Marisol up and over him so that she was now straddling his hips. He held her hips steady and pushed harder into her. She cried out his name with each breath she took. Leaning forward, Marisol gripped his nipples with both hands and began to push into him even harder. Their hips met in such a sacred act. An overwhelming need drove him deeper and deeper inside of her. She tightened around him gripping his engorged manhood. Jon could see the ecstasy on her face. Marisol’s hair had come undone and streamed over her shoulders and skimmed his chest as she rode him. Pushing, galloping toward their mutual orgasm, she looked down at Jon.

“Do you want to come? How badly do you want to come?” she jested.

“I want to come inside you like an exploding cannon. I want to come inside you with my whole being. I want to come inside till there's nothing left of me”

“Let us come together” she demanded.

Marisol sat up and ground her cunt into his hips. She pushed down on him steadily, driving his manhood up into her. Jon watched the flush beginning in her cheeks and spreading down her chest. He felt Marisol’s legs tightly on either side of his hips thrusting herself, grinding hard.

“I shall make my king come, I give you everything I am. Take me, take me, take me, for I am yours.”

“I can hold nothing back from you.” Jon panted.

Marisol bit at his lower lip and then their lips met with a jolt like lightning. With each thrust, they moved higher and higher arcing above the battlements, arcing into the sky, above the clouds to the full moon where they exploded like snow lightning.

 

 


	10. Hour Of The Nightengale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning sex. Just couldn't resist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've gotten over the first sex scene another just popped up. Can't deny morning wood. Please let me know, if this is working. I'd appreciate some comments.

Chapter Ten                Hour of the Nightingale

 

King in the North/Jon

When Jon awoke he found Marisol still cradled in his arms, her head curved into his chest. Her lips lightly grazing his skin as she breathed slowly in and out. This was the most peaceful Jon had fell in ages.  As he looked down the length of the bed, he saw that they were entangled and still conjoined from the lovemaking. He realized he was still inside her and becoming hard again. He didn't want to interrupt this moment with his needs, so he lay very still listening to the rhythm of her breathing and watching her eyelids flutter in sleep. His universe was harmonious. It was just before dawn and Winterfell was beginning to stir. This day would have just one moment of sunlight, he thought. By the gods, they had need of all the daylight hours to continue the day-to-day life in the castle as well as his many projects. Jon tenderly stroked Marisol’s tangled hair from her face and reverently watched her as she began to awaken to his touch. Marisol’s eyes glided open and her lips pressed a kiss onto the scar over his heart.

“Good morning, my King, my heart.”

 

Marisol

As she awoke, she felt that Jon was still inside her. This pleased her and she rolled herself astride Jon, pushing her hips down to pull him more deeply into her. Jon’s manhood responded eagerly and he glanced at her inquisitively.

“Would you like every morning to be like this, my lady of the ocean? I believe I have drowned in you. And only you bring me back to life with a kiss.”

“I would that every morning should start this way.”

They both begin to move flowing into each other. Jon thrusting harder and harder and Marisol felt even more yielding then the night before as he held her hips and pushed up into her.  Marisol smiled as she pulled his manhood deeper into her with each wave she sent crashing over him. Jon could hold nothing back and came quickly into her. Jon moaned with pleasure as he came.

“I have not pleasured you enough” he said slightly embarrassed at his urgency.

Saying nothing, Marisol kissed him fully, lips bruising into each other. Then, she continued to ride Jon impetuously, her nipples hard and brushing at his chest. Jon slipped his fingers to her pearl and teased it in circles until she came repeating his name like a prayer between gasps. She collapsed upon him and her hands caressed each of his scars before she kissed them. They lay in small silence until they heard the call of the nightingale.

“You forget yourself Jon, you have much to do and Sansa will be expecting me to resume the tasks on her list of preparations for Bran's arrival.” she chided as Jon smoothed her tangled hair back from her face again. “Besides, Your Grace” she winked, “I most surely cannot be found within your chambers at this hour and my bed still made up tight!  We must both be about our duties.”

“Marisol sat up in bed surveying the clothing discarded all around the bed. Jon’s breaches shrugged over his boots, one still standing upright. His waistcoat and tunic and other garments strewn everywhere. Her small clothes were in pink tatters on the floor and her dress was thrown over the headboard. The chamber held the faint order of her perfume, sweat and tremendous sex. 

“I cannot put any of this back on. It is all a wretched mess.” She sighed perplexed with the dilemma.

Jon looked around, laughing at the mess they had created last night driven by their passions. He rose from bed naked as his name day, went to his cabinet, pulled out one of his sleeping tunics and handed it to Marisol.

“We will have to make do, I guess.” he smirked as he helped her pull it over her head. It hung down to her knees.

Marisol hurriedly gathered up her dress and whatever pieces of clothing she could find intact and within reach. Jon watched in amazement as she whirled around his room. All he wore was a huge smile. Marisol turned back to him and kissed him full and hard, reluctant to part. He grabbed her free hand and kissed it palm up then turned it over and kissed her amazing fingertips.

“I'm off to a good bath. I will see you soon.” she winked back at him and ran then barefoot down the cold hall to her chamber wearing only his sleeping tunic and heavy Stark cloak over her shoulders.


	11. What the Eyes May See, the Heart Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Marisol are fencing. Arya, Marisol and Sansa discuss love, loss, pain and healing. Jon asks Davos about marrying Marisol. Bran will arrive soon! Character revelations begin now..... more on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still stuck in logistics of space and time. I'm trying to move along without plodding.  
> Thank you to everyone who has read this work. You are inspiring me to continue to write. May interesting ideas. Thanks again.

Chapter Eleven    What the Eyes May See, the Heart Knows

 

Arya

“Advance!” Arya shouted moving toward Marisol with her sword already extended.

“Beat!” answered Marisol

“Lunge.”

“Parry”, said Marisol standing her ground.

“I can see that my brother is quite taken with you. Riposte! Jon has been smiling. Well, I can see it under his serious exterior.” Arya said between moves.

“Beat and Lunge, is it that obvious?”

“Parry, about as obvious as you running down the hall in Jon’s sleeping tunic!”  

“Wait, how do you know?” said Marisol slightly shamefaced and reddening.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I have my ways. I am overjoyed, Jon needs your love in his life.”

“By the gods, my intentions are none but true. I did not journey here to Winterfell to gain a suitor. As I said, I did not know that my destiny was so interwoven with my mother's request. In truth, I did not understand why my mother had been so very secretive. I imagined that all her truths were mere tales.” pledged Marisol.

“We Starks a very real. They say a Stark is hard to kill. Quite true and the will of the Stark family survives, battered and bruised as we are. But it is good to see Jon with someone. Especially you Marisol, you have become a sister to me already. Now the only person I worry about is Sansa. I have Gendry back and now Jon has you. Only Sansa is alone. I wish for her, someone who will love her like all the courtly tales that she was so enamored with as a young girl.”

“I have come to love her dearly. She deserves the most adoring of husbands. She deserves to live in one of those stories. She deserves that kind of love.”

“You are absolutely right, Sansa deserves everything that she ever dreamed of.”

 

Sansa

“What is it I deserve?” asked Sansa as she entered the yard. “I noticed that the two of you were missing and thought you would be playing like two green boys in the yard.”

“We were both agreeing that you deserve the best husband that could ever be, that you deserve to be loved like the stories of the courtly knights and ladies.”

“If only they were true.” Sansa replied. “But in my experience that has not been the case. You should not worry about that right now. I have what I need right here. The most important thing to me is my family and you all are, bit by bit, restoring me. Every day, the generous love I receive from all of you heals me. Still, the damage has already been done and I fear it cannot be undone. I'm not the foolish little girl that took the Kings Road, going south with our Lord Father. And I am most certainly not the foolish young girl singing songs of knights and ladies, believing that if I sang them over and over enough times the songs would open and I could step in to that courtly world.”

“I can never erase the sight of our father being murdered. Neither of us can. I can feel the blade taking his life. His own broadsword, Ice. I felt it slice through me as well. I felt it cut me off from the rest of the world. That’s when I began my list. It was my prayer each night as I fell asleep.” added Arya.

“True my sister, I can never stop the scream in my head. I can never dry the tears I cried when Joffrey made me watch as my father was murdered. That image is burned into me like a brand. I carry that with me and learned to use it as a shield. I took up my father’s honor and his sense of duty. The past cannot be erased. It can't be painted into a pretty picture. But it is my past. In a strange way, I take comfort in knowing that every moment I live, everything I do, avenges my family.”

“I agree with you Sansa. Everything we do avenges our family. That is why Jon will not accept the Targaryen name. He would be the bastard of Winterfell rather than Rhaegar’s true born son.” replied Arya.

Sansa continued, “I first must come to completely love myself so that I may love another. Right here, this place, these people, this is what I love. I know that I will be restored in time. Just as Jon takes wood and mortar and rebuilds each building to give himself peace and solace. It will never bring back our lost ones but, it is a calling home to their spirits. If the gods would allow, I pray, let all my brothers play at swords in the yard again. Let me see my parents smiling as they watch from the battlements. I can almost hear their laughter.”

“I am the luckiest one.” said Arya “because I found Gendry again. In Bravos, I thought that losing myself would help, that becoming no one would help. Then I realized that only by becoming myself again, by remembering who I was and knowing that deep in my soul was the north. And the north remembers, so I remembered the north and came home.”

From the yard, they were the first to notice the raven’s arrival. Arya took off in unladylike run to find Samwell. Marisol turned to Sansa and embraced her. They clung tightly to each other. Sansa allowing tears to flow freely.

Marisol just held her as she cried, “I trust Jon. He would right the wrongs of this world for you if anyone could.”

By the time everyone got to the Maester's chambers, Sam was already unwrapping the message from the raven. This time he remembered to lay corn on the windowsill and on the table, so the raven was happily pecking away at the corn and cooperating with Sam.

“What is it say?” said Arya. “Hurry up, hurry up!”

“It says they're coming sooner than expected. They should be here in a day or so. It seems as though Tormund met them betwixt and he's making sure the travel party is moving as swiftly as possible. That’s one thing about Tormund, he always turns up when you need him.” said Sam.

“I wonder where Jon is so we can give him the news?” asked Sansa.

“Oh you know Jon, he's deep in mortar working on repairing the wall near the near the main gate I think he wanted to surprise Bran.” replied Arya.

 

King in the North/Jon

Jon and Ser Davos had ridden out early in the afternoon on a mission to find other faults in the fortifications that needed attention. All morning, Jon and Gendry had worked on the walls surrounding the main gate reinforcing any crumbling stone and mortar. Jon was not so worried about whether or not the castle was fit for a king. He wanted the restoration to continue before the snow fell so deep that they were all kept inside. He needed to keep himself busy since the temperatures had dropped. His liege lords had turned their attention to their own homesteads. Everyone was gathering food and supplies. This would still be a cold winter and no one was sure how long it would last.

“Ser Davos, I have always looked to you for advice. In so many ways you have been the Hand of the King for me even though we Northerners do not keep such politics. We are so much more straightforward.”

“And I appreciate that Jon. Being Hand for Stannis was an exercise in futility. He was a man able to hear but unable to listen.”

“The gratitude I owe you for remaining with me is immense. You have been so steadfast, so honest. I lean upon your counsel.”

“Jon, you are a good man and an honorable King. You’ve always thought of the small folk. The wildlings that you let through the gate. All those you saved from Hardhome. I do not believe you can see your own reflection. You are a better man than you know Jon Snow. It has been said to you before and I will say it again, you know nothing Jon Snow!”

Jon laughed aloud. He really did prefer to be called Jon Snow rather than Jon Targaryen or Jon Stark Targaryen as his aunt Danny had requested of him, more for politics than family. She relented and allowed him to be himself. Daenerys was an astute woman and realized where his loyalties were. She understood his being a Stark first and Targaryen by surprise, though she had lived her whole life clutching at that name as if it would save her. And now it had. In the eyes of the people of Westeros, Targaryen was preferable to Lannister. For such a diminutive person, she loved the enormity of her name and enjoyed her many titles. Jon preferred to be just Jon, no more no less. Jon a good man, a man of honor, duty and purpose. Today he had ultimate purpose.

“Jon, the walls and gates are progressing well. What did you really want to talk about? I can tell when you have something on your mind.”  

“That is why you are my Hand. Ser Davos, allow me your counsel. Do you think it wise that I marry Lady Marisol? I realize that we do not know her complete history or the history of her house as it is so far away from Westeros. Still, I do not fear it. I confess that I have abandoned my soul to her.”

“Yes, we hardly noticed that the two of you can't seem to be in a room together without your eyes locked one to the other. Even with your discretion, we've all noticed your long walks, longer kisses and those long long nights.”

“I really have nothing to hide. She has brought me back to life in a way I didn't think that possible. So you approve?”  

“Of course I approve. Though I know not your father, Lord Eddard, I believe he would counsel you to go where your heart takes you. It is your choice to make. She looks to you, not any title.”

“I know she can see my best self. The rest of it, bastard or not bastard, Stark or Targaryen, so little of it matters when we strip ourselves down to the core of who we really are. On Solstice night, I took Marisol into the Godswood to find foxfire. I wanted to ask her then, in the Godswood, but we became distracted.”  

“Distracted? That’s a new description. In truth, she has touched you. I have never seen you so distracted.”

“I told you Davos I am lost to her.”

“Do what your heart says in its beating. Somethings cannot be discouraged.”

 


	12. Opening The Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This a a simple two POV of Bran's arrival at Winterfell. Ser Davos and Lady Marisol have an important conversation. Jon examines his memories and pain. Both Jon and Marisol want to talk with Lord Howland Reed.

Chapter Twelve  Opening the Gate

 

Marisol

The two outriders arrived just as dawn was breaking the sky open bright and blue. They reported that Bran and his party would arrive by midday. Now with the whole of the Stark household outside waiting, it was snowing. The flakes were huge and it was so cold that each fell crystalline catching on cloaks and hair. They didn't melt but lay with perfect precision, each one looking like one of Sansa’s beautiful embroideries. Marisol stood with Ser Davos. The King in the North, The Wardeness of the North and Princess Arya stood at the main gate waiting. Winter town’s small folk had been gathering on both sides of the gate since the outriders had arrived. Lord Bran was coming home. Another Stark returning to Winterfell. Finally, all of the Starks living and dead would finally be home.

“This is an important day for you.” said Ser Davos to Marisol as they waited.

“Yes, I will be so happy to finally meet Lord Bran and Lady Meera and of course, Lord Reed. My mother often spoke of him.”

“You know he's fallen in love with you.”

“I've fallen in love with him as well, and I assure you, the man not the title, I care nothing for that.”

“He needs someone who loves him and who is willing to take the time to help him heal but, only he can tell you exactly what he needs. Someone he can trust beyond all measure.”

“I do love him. I almost expected to. Do not forget the reason for my visit, my mother’s gifts, that she so plainly made me swear to deliver. I believed this part of her fantasy. Though in truth she would tell me, Marisol, there is a boy waiting for you. He knows it not, for he knows not his true self. He knows not his true mother or father. She always had some riddle or rhyme for me about the future.”

“So you are willing to forswear your home for the North?”       

“Ser Davos, I grew up on these stories of kings and queens, dragons and knights. My mother loved to tell me the story of Harrenhal and the tourney. My mother, I know was from one of the great old houses. She said her exile was to keep her safe. She said there were secrets that could not be told until the time was right. All fancy, I assumed. Though, I grew up so far from Westeros, I know the legends and history complete. Perhaps, my journey is a returning.”

“You are a good daughter. You left your home and all that you knew to fulfill your mother’s request. You have done the right thing and brought honor your house. And if it has brought you the love that will fill your life, then all is as it should be.  I, myself am not a religious man. I have no gods to comfort me yet, I know the stars and the moon and navigated with them depending on their constancy. So if this turn of events was meant to be, if it was written in our stars then it must be so.”

The snow was falling harder make making a lacy curtain. There was little wind so the snowflakes hung in the air like beautiful stars. Finally, Marisol could see figures approaching. Three tall figures walking and three figures on horseback. As they got closer, she was able to make out that the three people walking were free folk. The one in the middle must be Tormund she thought, his red hair blazing bright is a torch, bright as a signal fire to guide the others. Then, Marisol could make out a young man, a young woman and an older man riding dark-haired garrons making their way up the Kings Road. The small folk began to shout Stark! Stark! Stark! Stark! They were part of the reunion as well. These were Lord Stark’s people. The Lord of Winterfell watched over them. Today, the youngest living child of Eddard and Catelyn returned home.

 

The King in the North/Jon

As Jon stood at the open gate of Winterfell he reflected. It had been more than a year, actually closer to two since Wun Wun broke down the gate and they took back their home. This yard was sacred, consecrated by the blood spilled from both sides. So many memories and now he was waiting for his youngest living brother to ride through the gate. He could not fathom everything that had happened since he rode out with his Uncle Benjen to take the black. The last time he saw Robb was here, in this yard. He thought back to all the times they had spent practicing with bow and arrow and wooden swords right here.  Here, he stormed in with his men, his friends by his side. Wun Wun had died here for him. He almost beat Ramsey to death here, for Sansa. And if he closed his eyes, he could replay it all. It never came back to him in order but, it all came back. Somehow, Bran riding through that gate with Meera would bring it almost full circle. Tormund and his sons came into view and slightly behind them Bran and Meera and Lord Reed.  Bran had explained to him everything he had seen in his vision of the Tower of Joy and now he could actually speak to Howland Reed who was there with his Lord Father. In truth, all he wanted to know about was his mother.

Jon looked back and saw Sansa and Arya standing tall and brave. It reminded him of the time King Robert visited. The whole of his family arrayed themselves to meet him and his queen, Cersei Lannister. He had to choke that memory down. That visit had been the first step, setting the cruel events in motion that had taken his family away. Ser Jamie had almost killed Bran and denied him the use of his legs on that visit. He shook that memory from his head. Not today, this was a joyful day. As he glanced back, just behind his sisters, he saw Ser Davos and Marisol. He had his arm protectively around her. Funny, two Southroners trying to keep themselves warm in a cold that he could hardly feel. He wondered if Ser Davos was trying to gauge her feelings. Tonight, he would ask her to marry him. He hoped they could be wed along with Bran and Meera in the Godswood.

Tormund blew his horn just before he stepped through the gate. There was a great cheer from the small folk that were watching this most personal of home comings. It meant as much to them, that their young Lord was coming home. Another Stark at Winterfell. _There must always be a Stark at Winterfell._ Tormund now entered in peace along the same footsteps that he once walked in war.

“My friend, thank you for guiding my brother back home. I have wished to see you for so long to show you the restorations that we have made on the home you gave back to me. This is a home you are welcome to, always my friend.” said Jon warmly.

“And I would take it back from that bastard Ramsey all over again, just to see the look on Lady Sansa’s face. To see your family now reunited could almost break this old wildling’s heart. Of all of the things I have done this was the most honorable thing. Yes, this was the most honorable.” mused Tormund.

Finally, Bran rode through the gate. Meera and her father had held their garrons back to allow Bran to enter alone. This was his first time riding through the gates of his home as a man grown. They could sense the power of the moment. Of course, Meera could. She knew that theThree Eyed Raven had to ride in triumphantly. Thanks to their Maester, Bran had regained his strength. He was actually able to ride in the saddle that Gendry had made him, modeled after Bran’s original saddle designed by Tyrion so long ago.

Jon wanted to sprint. He felt he could run like Arya to his brother and grab him in a hug so fierce. His little brother coming home a strong man and bringing his betrothed.

After Bran passed under the gate and his family circled around him, Lady Meera and Lord Howland Reed rode through. They too, were thronged by the family as the small folk and servants of the castle roared with shouts of Stark! Stark! Stark! The North remembers! The North always remembers!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I have been allowing the characters direct the narrative. There are more chapters than I ever imagined. I'm still having to restrain my need to trace their every step. Logistics, Logistics, Logistics. I would appreciate some helpful comments.
> 
> Thank you readers for the KUDOS!. Wow. Thanks so much.


	13. You Dare To Play With The Elements, Jon Snow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran, Lady Meera and Lord Howland Reed finally arrive at Winterfell. Lord has surprising information for Lady Marisol about her mother. Jon proposes to Marisol.

Chapter Thirteen    You Dare To Play With The Elements, Jon Snow.

 

Marisol

Marisol was relieved when Jon came over and took her by the hand unceremoniously to bring her into the family fold.  Ser Davos had introduced her to Tormund and his sons Torregg and Dryn. Tormund immediately begin to tease her about surviving the northern cold. He gave Jon a jovial slap on the back and a smirk.

“My Lady”, he said to Marisol, “I hope you have a good bed warmer on these long nights.”

“I have been provided with everything I might need, from Northern socks and boots to a cloak of furs, Tormund Giantsbane.”  She answered confidently.

“Well now, since you've been south of The Wall, I see your tastes have changed a bit. A lass kissed by the sun I see. Just remember the sun is a great ball of fire. You dare to play with the elements, Jon Snow!” japed Tormund.

“Ah, Tormund, you have forgotten how the elements entwine. My Lady, by her name alone, Marisol means the unity of ocean and sun.”

Marisol flushed with embarrassment. Jon raised her hand to his lips, kissed each cold knuckle and as he was want to do, kissed her palm. His eyes looked straight into her heart.

“Tormund, my friend, by the hospitality of Winterfell, please go in and refresh yourselves.

“That we will.” He nodded to his sons and they walked toward the Great Hall. “Don’t worry, I know the way.”

Jon turned back to Marisol and said, “Shall we meet my brother and his betrothed. You know that I am most anxious to meet Lord Reed.”

“I am anxious to meet them all.” she said worrying whether or not they would approve of her.

Sansa had already begun to usher everyone into the Great Hall while Gendry and Arya unbelted Bran’s saddle and carried him in. The three of them were talking animatedly about a chair that Gendry had built with iron side wheels so that Bran could propel himself around both inside and out.  

The Great Hall was beautiful with a huge fire in the main hearth. Newly made Stark banners hung from every wall. The tables were laid with fresh pine boughs including tiny pinecones hanging like nature’s ornaments. Fresh holly had been placed on top of the great mantel and an amazing drawing of Lord Eddard and Ice, that Sam and Arya had discovered, was placed in the middle overlooking everything in the hall. The drawing was especially poignant because it was placed where the Stark family's great sword should have hung. Sansa with the help of Marisol and Arya had outdone themselves. The hall was endowed with the grace that befit this new North where Jon was King. Marisol and Sansa exchanged knowing glances as Jon's eyes took in the scene. Sansa purposefully rushed the guests inside. Jon could enter and get the full impact of the new Winterfell where he no longer had to sit below the salt. He now occupied the Lord’s seat at the highest table. Marisol could see Jon draw in a huge breath of surprise at their handiwork. He was astounded and moved. She could tell by the way he squeezed her hand and the rare quiet smile that lit up his face.

“My Lady, I see that you and my sisters have outdone yourselves. I had no thought that this amount of preparation was going on while I was out mending walls.

“Doubt not the power of a woman with a vision and mind to carry it out. As you can see.”

“I shall never doubt the three strong women in my life, especially you.  Let us proceed in as Lord and his Lady. My most fervent wish is to introduce you properly to Bran and Meera.

Jon never let go of her. He encircled her waist with his left arm as he guided her toward the high table where his family was already seated in deference to Bran.

“This is my brother Bran. He is Lord of Winterfell, if he wants it. And his Lady Meera. Has your Lord father consented? I have the greatest of hopes.”

“Yes, he has my brother.” announced Bran triumphantly. “My Lady Meera has been by my side throughout my journey and has taken up my quest for knowledge as her own. We have truly become as one. I would not be the Three Eyed Raven without her and her brother Jojen as well. I always wish to honor the memory of Jojen Reed as he gave his life for me.”

Lady Meera spoke up and said “It is the bond between the Starks and the Reeds. Our Lord fathers were always bannermen, friends and soon family.”

“Well said, my daughter.” acknowledged Lord Reed. He did not hesitate when Jon and Marisol approached him at table. He greeted them warmly.

“Your Grace, I am honored to be at Winterfell among my friends, the Starks. You are all that Lord Eddard wanted you to be. I am very proud to meet you, young King. I was with Ned when he took you from your mother’s arms and when he brought you home to Winterfell. I swore to him and to the Old Gods to do anything to keep you safe. I have kept that vow through silence all these many years.”

“I thank you Lord Reed. I regret the hardships this secret may have brought upon you. I do hope that you will be able to enlighten me on the circumstances of my birth. Most importantly, I hope you will tell me about my mother. As I have already said, I care not about the Targaryen blood. I am satisfied to be a Stark whether by father or mother. I would like to introduce you to my Lady Sea Sauvage of House Santorini.”

Lord Reed beamed as he took her hand and said, “Why you look so like your Lady mother. It is astonishing to me, when I gaze upon you, I can see her as clearly as I knew her at Harrenhal.”

“You are so kind, Lord Reed.” Marisol answered her skin a high pink.

“Yes, I can most clearly see Lady Myshela. I must confess, I did not quite remember the name she had fashioned to shield herself during Robert’s Rebellion. Sea Sauvage is it? That is quite the name your mother came up with. It seems to be a shield upon another shield. I cannot imagine her living out on that small island at the end of the Summer Sea where she took refuge.”

“I don't exactly understand what you mean Lord Reed? I do know that my mother took the name of the island upon which we lived as our house name and our sigil is the chambered nautilus. Apparently, all of that came about well before I was born.”

“It did my dear, your grandfather Lord Whent…..

“My grand… my grandfather Lord who?

“Know you not your lineage my Lady?”

“In truth Lord Reed, my mother kept everything in obscurity. It is only now as a young woman of one and twenty that I begin to understand. It was difficult to see through the obscurities, that there were facts and fantasy and obstructions amid my mother’s stories. As I have said, she spoke in riddles or so it seemed to me. Everything had more than one meaning.

“Your mother was a good woman. The truest friend Lady Lyanna could ever have had."

“Then it is so, your mother knew my mother!” said Jon in utter joy.

“Why yes, they were best of friends as beautiful and wilful daughters are want to be.” Lord Reed explained.

“I feared she talked like a septa, always instructing me about honor and duty, family. What one will do, how far one will go for love. She was so enigmatic. At three and ten, I only understood it as fairytales. Being so far away, Westeros seemed like a dream. She said she could never return as long as Robert Baratheon lived. I'm not even sure today what she meant. That is why I wished to seek you out Lord Reed.”

Jon looked sadly at Lord Reed and pleaded. “I need to know about my mother, to the depth of my soul, if a dead man can still have a soul. I need to know. Please, understand that the Targaryen blood which flows in me means little to me, if anything. It solves nothing. I was raised a Northerner and I will always be such. I do not care for names. Stark or Snow. I have learned that a name alone does not make the man. The man lives up to his name and surpasses it. All my life, I have been the bastard of Winterfell. Whether I am the bastard of Lady Lyanna or Lord Eddard matters not. It is the honor and the duty my Lord father taught me that makes me a Stark.”

“Your words are an echo of Lord Eddard, My King. I agree with you. Lord Eddard was the man that raised you to be the man you are. We, his liege lords and the young Lady Myshela Whent, put before everything else, a belief that our actions which saved your life were part of your destiny. Worry not, you are the son of the North. You are a true born son. Please, let me rest a bit and collect my thoughts in as orderly a manner as an old man can. We will sit later and attempt to revisit the past and bring it into perspective for this moment in time.”

Marisol sat stunned thinking over and over about her life in the farthest island of the Summer Isles. Her mother had always instructed her to say that their home lay beyond the Summer Isles. She remembered her father as if in a dream. He had died soon after her seventh name day. He styled himself, Lord of Santorini. As the years passed, Marisol realized that her parents were not native to the isle but had retreated there.  

Lord Reed had called her mother Lady Whent.  Marisol reproached herself for listening but never understanding. The way her mother described Harrenhal and the River Lands, she should've realized. That is how her mother had such intimate knowledge of the tourney. In truth, her mother did say that she was there with Lady Lyanna. Marisol longed to know her mother's part in all of this. She turned to Jon with a look of pleading.

“Walk with me in the Godswood. I know not what to think. My mind is a whirlwind. I feel as though all of the pieces of my life have fallen into disarray.”

Jon leaned into her and whispered “I believe we have much to sort out, though none of it terrifies me. I have seen worse demons. Whatever I might discover of my life will only ease my heart. We will go to the Godswood. I doubt that we can escape from my duties until after we have hosted this meal and seen our guests to their well deserved rest.”

Marisol took in a deep breath and held it counting silently before she exhaled. These might be her worst demons she thought. she squeezed Jon’s hand tightly

“You know I love you.”

“Yes I am undeniably yours.” he replied. “We will sort this out together.”

 

 The King in the North/Jon

After lunch, Jon and Marisol walked to the Godswood. He was still unable to let go of her hand. She was his constant. She was his sun. He felt the need for order, for control. He had been living and reacting in an orderly way according to what needed to be done and now everything was in disarray. He was about to find out everything he longed to know. Jon did not know if it would change anything or everything or nothing.

“My Lady, my love, I wished to ask you this most important question in a memorable fashion. I am not familiar with romance but, I wanted to be fervent about it. Now I must blurt it out. Will you become my wife? Will you marry me and be my reason for living?  Will you take me as I am?”

Marisol reached up and touched his lips before she leaned in and kissed him reassuringly.

“Jon, I will try to be anything and everything that you so desire, everything that you need. Will you take me with these new revelations? Everything, I understood about my life appears to be part of a deception. A deception to save you. I know I want to be yours. I will be your comfort. Please remember I do not want or expect to be the Queen in the North. All I wish to be is your wife your joy and your solace.

“I would be bound to you as I have been bound to no other. I am not a man of lovers or paramours. I am too sullen and moody as my sisters tease me. These names, these titles, I fear they tear me and would, if I didn't have you, pull me apart.”

“I know.” she said. “I can see into your soul and funny how my mother would tell me about the boy waiting for me. She knew all along that you were here.”

Marisol began to cry, tears streaming down her face. Jon took her in his arms and held her as they stood near the heart tree.  She continued to sob.

“Come my love. Please don't cry.” he soothed.

He kissed each tear, one by one away.  They held each other and slowly rocked back and forth listening to the wind in the red leaves of the Weirwood tree. Again he thought about the very first time he put the cloak of furs around her shoulders. It had been some sort of destiny all along. How could their mothers, perhaps deep in their beings, have known that one day, this moment would occur? At this very place? Perhaps Lord Reed would have some of these answers. Perhaps not. Either way Jon had found what he wanted and what he needed. Perhaps the stars were aligned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters are taking me on their own pathes. Sorry for the long delay. The next chapter is in the works. Once this is done, I plan to go in and fix the poetry references. This whole thing was inspired from a Ghazal and I have already used all of the lines. I'm really enjoying the writing. Thanks so much for reading.


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